


Adding You to My Future

by NekoIzumi



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BAMF Stiles, Derek and Stiles are Mates, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Happy Ending, Humor, Kid Fic, M/M, Mild Gore, Rimming, Single Parent Stiles, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles shoots Jackson in the leg, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2017-12-23 12:44:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 42,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/926579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NekoIzumi/pseuds/NekoIzumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So, I'm Stiles.” he smiled warmly once he had put his unannounced patient down on the exam table. “I will poke and prod you a little bit to check for internal injuries, those that I can’t see because they're inside you, and some of it might hurt but it will pass, I promise. I will tell you everything I'm about to do and why I'm doing it so just stay calm and this will go like a breeze, okay?”</p>
<p>Now, Stiles wasn’t stupid in any way, shape or form, he knew a were when he saw one… although he had obviously never seen a werecat before, and definitely not one as young as this one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> My first chapters tend to be a little short, please bear with me |D

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer; I don’t own Teen Wolf, I don’t want to. Neither do I profit from writing this fic.
> 
> I do NOT give permission for anyone to put my works on Goodreads or any such similar place. Thank you.

Stiles grinned where he stood behind the counter, waving as a little girl very carefully carried her still groggy beloved pet out to her mother’s car. He loved this job, he really did, but there were days when he seriously wondered if he had made the right decision. Usually he brushed all doubt aside quickly though because he doubted he'd feel as good about himself if he had gone down a different path.

“That’s the last one for today, right?” he smiled at the nurse coming up next to him with some papers. She smiled, nodding at him while clicking her away across the computer screen.

“Yup, that’s the last one. And you're just dying to get out of here, aren’t you, Dr Stiles?”

“Actually, since a little bird sang to me it’s your daughter’s birthday, today I figured I’d let you go first. I'll lock up when I'm done.” He elbowed her companionably and nodded towards the doors. “I only have Netflix waiting for me while you have a kid so go on, shoo, out.”

“Thank you.” she smiled, pecking him on the cheek before rushing to go change. A few minutes later she hurried out the doors wishing him a great weekend. Stiles waved her off, locked behind her and returned to the front desk to turn off the computer there. Usually the nurses handed the paperwork, that way the doctors could take more patients but on a night like this he didn’t mind doing it so he went to grab a cup of strong tea and sat down by the terminal in his office.

 

He worked with the efficiency of someone used to paperwork, research, writing essays, fast, accurate… if albeit a bit absentmindedly. He had learned quite fast that this job calmed him down, mellowed his ADHD and he was basically off Adderall entirely now. Thankfully.

He sighed over his cup, singlehandedly typing in the last file onto the computer… when a sound from outside caught his attention. Frowning he listened for it, had that been-… and a minute later he hear it again.

 

“Doesn’t sound right.” he muttered to himself rising to his feet to investigate.

He opened the backdoor to the clinic, listening again while slowly making his way over the parking lot towards the dumpsters where he thought he'd heard it… and crouched down, making sure there was a soft smile on his face. “Hello there, buddy.” he murmured lowly. “That looks painful to me, how about letting me take a look and see if I can make it better, hm?” He made no effort trying to come closer, it was obvious enough that it was the last thing to do especially when the small creature huddled up closer to the fence behind it, emitting a small warning yowl. Not that it scared Stiles. “I'm a vet at the clinic over there.” he continued instead. “I don’t harm animals on principle and my oath goes against it so you have nothing to fear from me.” he said softly. “I can help you with that leg and those burns, you'd get food and somewhere warm to sleep and once you're patched up I'll let you go again. How about that?”

 

A few long minutes later pale gentle hands very carefully lifted the cat up into his arms, mindful of all injuries, and carried him inside. He never saw the shadow sneak around the corner.

 

-

 

“So, I'm Stiles.” he smiled warmly once he had put his unannounced patient down on the exam table. “I will poke and prod you a little bit to check for internal injuries, those that I can’t see because they're inside you, and some of it might hurt but it will pass, I promise. I will tell you everything I'm about to do and why I'm doing it so just stay calm and this will go like a breeze, okay?”

 

Now, Stiles wasn’t stupid in any way, shape or form, he knew a were when he saw one… although he had obviously never seen a werecat before, and definitely not one as young as this one. Thankfully though the kid’s inner cat felt safe enough here to only whine a little considering he merely watched as the Stilinski put on rubber gloves and carefully, gently, felt the soft belly for abnormalities.

“I'm going to take an x-ray of you, a picture to see how you look inside, it doesn’t hurt a bit, and that way I can see how you’ve broken that leg, buddy. I'll have to move you a little, just like this, perfect, you're a champ.” Stiles murmured while positioning the camera, muttering something about being back in just a second before leaving the room to take the x-ray. Then he returned, checked the image on the screen… and grimaced. Bad break. Poor kid. Even with his healing factor as a were, this was going to take a while to heal.

 

Sighing he moved a bit to the side while rummaging through a drawer, then returned to the small form on the table. Wary yellow eyes looked at him, earning a warm smile.

 

“Here’s the thing, buddy.” he murmured softly while carefully lifting his hand to gently scratch behind a soft ear. “Thankfully you don’t have any injuries inside you but you _do_ have a broken leg and that leg needs a cast. The best way for both of us is for me to sedate you while I take care of you because then you won’t feel anything. I can give you painkillers but I doubt they’ll help much. Do you trust me enough to take a little nap?”

He saw how those eyes watched him then, scared, unsure and wanting nothing more than to flee, broken leg or not… but the pain must've won out because he gave the barest of nods a long moment later.

 

Stiles offered a little reassuring smile and after having prepared everything he needed what with him being alone, he lifted the mask to the small face and carefully held it there. “I know it smells a bit funny, don’t worry about it, it’s just the gas. You're going to feel a bit heavy and sleepy, don’t fight it, everything is going to be alright and when you wake up you'll feel a lot better.” He continued mumbling soothing nonsense, softly stroking the dirty fur while doing so, until he was absolutely positive the cat was out cold and only then did he spring into action. In no time he had checked for other injuries, put an IV in a shaved foreleg for fluids, prepared the broken leg for the cast and quickly but precisely fixed it, wrapped it and dried it so it could heal properly. The kid being a were it would heal a lot faster than a normal cat but it would still take a few days.

 

Once finished with that he turned his attention to the burns, somewhere in the back of his mind wondering what on earth kind of mess the poor creature had ended up in to walk, or limp, away with _burns_. And then he was suddenly at a loss for what to do next. The cat was still asleep, would be for a few hours more, probably from exhaustion and pain as much as the gas… and there was no way Stiles could leave him here. There would definitely be questions, regardless of weres or not, but there was no way he could leave him in one of the recovery cages… or throw him out. Not with a cast and definitely not when the kid trusted him like this, not to mention, Stiles had made him a promise. Sighing in defeat he went to go grab one of carriers.

Again he missed seeing the figure peeking in through a window.

 

-

 

Stiles turned his attention away from the muted TV to the form lying on a thick blanket at the other end of the couch when it finally stirred.

“Hi there, buddy.” he mused. “You had a long nap. Feeling better?” He chuckled at the groggy ‘weeh’ it earned him. “You’ll be dizzy for a little while more but once that’s gone I'll give you something to eat, I'm sure you're starving. By the way, this is my apartment. I kind of have this weekend off so I took you home instead of leaving you at the clinic, hope you don’t mind.” He paused. “Later when you're better and when the cast is off… why don’t you tell me your name, kid? Maybe we can find your parents?”

 

The werecat, despite still being dizzy, tense… growled warningly at him when Stiles moved closer. This time though, he kept his fingers to himself thank you very much. “Don’t worry, I'm nothing supernatural and I'm obviously no Hunter either. I'm just Stiles, the human vet, okay? I still won’t hurt you.” He offered another smile. “Anyways, I'll take care of you until your leg is properly healed and then I'll let you go, just like I promised. Now, do you want something to eat or do you want to wait until you're less groggy?”

 

-

 

When he woke up the next morning the Stilinski wasn’t alone in his bed, he wasn’t entirely surprised either to see that he had company. The werecat had been fed, more salve had been applied to all scrapes and burns, albeit accompanied by a very distrustful yowl, and he had been informed that there was a litter box in the bathroom at his disposal to which the door had been left slightly open. Also, he could choose if he wanted to sleep on the blanket on the couch, in the carrier or on the guest bedroom bed… as long as he didn’t claw on anything. Stiles had left his own bedroom door open in a silent invitation, in case the kid wanted proximity.

Which he apparently had.

 

He smiled at the sight of the small creature all huddled up in the folds of the duvet, with his leg pointing out. He was sleeping surprisingly peacefully… and he was purring. Leaving the kid where he was Stiles silently got up, used the bathroom and went to the kitchen. His first weekend off in-… too long obviously since he couldn’t remember when he'd had a weekend off last, was reason enough for pancakes in front of the TV. He'd take it easy, maybe catch a movie or two on Netflix, something for kids couldn’t hurt, and make sure Puss didn’t strain himself too much. And that he didn’t lick off any salve, only the threat of wearing a cone had stopped him the day before. He smiled when he heard the tell-tale click and rasp of plaster against hardwood as the cat pussyfooted out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, coming up next to the Stilinski’s leg, pressing out a low ‘weeh’ again.

“Good morning, buddy.” he greeted. “Hungry?” His question earning him something that might’ve passed for a meow. “Awesome. Pancakes for me, kitty food for you.”

This time he definitely got a meow.


	2. Chapter Two

Weeks later found Stiles back at work, or on his way home rather, rushing because he knew he was late and that he had to go to the grocery store first. Cursing under his breath he jumped into his jeep and was out of the staff parking lot like a bat out of hell. It was Friday afternoon, it was a rainy day… it was a day he usually would’ve gladly spent at the clinic until late because for some reason animals **loved** him and he was a sucker for cuddly bunnies.

 

However, his routine had changed quite a bit during the course of the last 10 or so weeks since his run in with what had turned out to be nothing short of a ‘kitten’. What Stiles had assumed was a teenager… had turned out to be a _child._ He groaned as he rushed into Wal-Mart, filled his basket with what he needed for dinner, paid (not necessarily stressing the cashier a little) and rushed out in 10 minutes flat. Yeah, things had definitely changed.

 

“Zeke?” he hollered another 15 minutes later as he virtually boomed in through the door. “Zeke!”

A small boy popped up from behind the couch, pouting slightly.

“You’re late.” he sulked. “Mrs Burr dropped me off an hour ago.”

“I'm late because it took me forever to coax a Labrador and his bee stung butt out of the carrier he had crawled into.” came the grumpy reply. “Why do you even buy a carrier when you’ve got a dog that big? Unless they're for transport on planes or something? Okay, walking with stingers in your butt is probably not that comfy so I guess I understand but still…” he muttered more to himself than the child. Gods, he sounded just like De-

 

Stiles flinched away from the thought, pressing out a smile instead. “Have you done your homework, Puss?” He was definitely not thinking about _him_ , nope, not going there.

“Yeah… but I don’t know if it’s right.” the boy muttered coming up to the Stilinski, nosing at his hip. “Can you see it later?” Insecure chocolate-coloured eyes met warm whiskey brown.

 

Ever since the boy had been offered a permanent home with the vet he had been worried it would be taken away again, which had made him clingy, constantly seeking affection like a little monkey… not that Stiles minded. Zeke was an orphan with no recollection of his parents of family, 6 years old, he was a werecat… and he was Stiles' foster son, while they waited for the adoption to go through. The nightmare of red tape they had entered to go about this the right way had left the older Stilinski with a cold sweat really, but it hadn’t stopped him. Social services was bogged down with children needing a home, temporary or otherwise, so when Dr Stilinski dumped the thick bunch of papers and forms and everything they had demanded of him on an agent’s desk, clearly stating that he was taking Zeke in in the meantime, they basically ran through the very basics to make sure the boy could stay with him without risk until they took a closer look on the case.

 

‘Stiles’ Stilinski, 25 years old, fulltime employed veterinarian, graduated from college with a golden star and as a double major, son of sheriff Stilinski in Beacon Hills, was allowed to leave with the boy ‘for now’. But they'd check up on him often, and unannounced, and talk to all his friends and co-workers and neighbours to assess him and of course, things had gone 1000 mph after that. Stiles had called his dad explaining that he'd get a phone call sometime soon from social services about a boy who he had taken in and he had given his workmates the same warning. They had all cooed over him for some reason.

He had also set Zeke up with papers to prove his identity, going through the police who hadn’t been able to find anything, put him in a good school relatively close to home… and turned his guest bedroom into a little boy’s dream. If you're going to do something, do it right. No halfassery.

 

At first he had had no intentions whatsoever of adoption, he'd just take care of Zeke for the time being while they tried to find his family… then there had been no family to find… and he refused to release a were-child into the foster system. Hence he had taken the biggest decision of his life and was now a single father. He doubted anyone would object to the adoption but if someone did he'd fight with everything he had.

Also, after the third night of locking up the clinic at night and finding a hungry and cold werecat huddling under his jeep, waiting pitifully for him, there really was no way he could say he wasn’t attached and get away with it.

 

“Of course! After dinner.” He patted the boy on the head, absentmindedly scratching behind a small ear and earning a low purr. “Go wash your hands, Puss. Tonight is spaghetti night.”

“With meatballs?”

“Not if you don’t wash your hands.” Stiles grinned as the boy rushed to the bathroom. After the first phone call to his dad, which had been tense and all kinds of awkward, the two of them talking through everything, the two older Stilinskis had gotten a lot closer. The sheriff was Stiles’ go-to-person for everything, he was his support and source of answers and advice for everything related to being a single father. Stiles had promised to bring Zeke home for Christmas… if the sheriff promised not to say anything about all of this to certain deputy of his in Beacon Hills. It was hilarious really, how a once murder suspect had become the best deputy in the county. Not that Stiles thought about any deputies, nope, nothing of the sort. He had other things to think about, like his job, the possibility of buying a house because a kid needed a garden to play in, not a balcony, were or not, Zeke, Zeke's grades and general health and of course, the absolutely lack of a love life. There were no thoughts of deputies or werewolves, noserrie! Those had nothing to do with each other.

 

Not that that was an issue anymore. Stiles hadn’t seen the Hale in more than 4 years and even then it had only been an accident so it could hardly count. Stiles had been at Scott's place when the Alpha showed up needing the Beta for whatever supernatural shenanigans they were thrown into of the week and the Stilinski had waved them both off saying he could get back home on his own. There hadn’t been a single word exchanged between them back then… because Derek had barely acknowledged the human at all and why should he? Stiles _wasn’t pack._ The words still hurt like an open wound, even if they had been spoken nearly 10 years ago.

 

Stiles was not pack.

 

A low sound from his right snapped him right back out of memory lane to a lowly whining Zeke, tugging on his trouser leg and looking ready to cry. Oh, right. Were-creatures could hear your heart and smell your distress.

“Daddy, are you hurt?” he asked, already sniffling.

Stiles hefted the boy up and hugged him tightly, trying to comfort them both.

“Nope, I was just thinking of some old stuff that’s not even important. I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, Puss.” He rubbed the boy’s back in soothing circles while humming some song he had heard on the radio that day and after a while the sniffles died out… only to be replaced by a rather loud gurgle from Zeke's tummy instead. The two blinked at each other. “Mrs Burr didn’t feed you?”

“She said she hadn’t done any shopping.”

“Parrot.”

“Magpie!”

“Crow.”

“Dove!”

“Oh no, that’s just wrong, buddy!” Stiles chuckled. “Mrs Burr is a lot of things but a _dove_ isn’t one of them.”

The boy thought for a while but then giggled.

“Pelican!”

“Now **that** I can believe. Now let’s get this show on the road… and don’t eat any raw meatballs.”

 

An hour later found them on the couch watching ‘ _Aristocats’_ , again, while Zeke burrowed up next to Stiles’ side, purring in content. He was being scratched with the occasional stroke down his back, making him drowsy. These were the times Zeke loved the most, when they were close and they watched a movie together and his daddy would hold him close and cuddle him not caring if he was holding a boy or a cat. Zeke had been homeless for almost 2 years before he met Stiles and he had learned the hard way not to trust people… and that it was safer being an animal than a human child in a big city. Scared and confused he had let his cat take over, letting his instincts and senses keep them both alive… until he had ended up behind a veterinary clinic with a broken leg. Only then had the boy returned to the surface, coaxed by the warmth in a low voice.

 

And now he had a home, a real home with a warm bed, food and… and Stiles. Daddy Stiles was his everything so if the adoption didn’t work then Zeke would probably go back to being a cat, just so he could be close to his Stiles. He yawned openly before tucking his nose back in under the Stilinski's side. It still felt like only yesterday that he had woken up on this very couch, not knowing it would become his home, somewhere where he could stay long enough for his scent to catch. He was lucky, that much he knew.

 

Furry ears twitched taking in the different sounds of home and the city. Endless car engines, TVs, plumbing, Stiles’ heartbeat, calm and steady, the faint buzz of light tubes… and someone standing right outside their front door. The small were-creature tensed, his head snapping up to stare at the door, focusing entirely on the presence he knew was there but couldn’t see. There was something **there** … listening.

 

“Are you alright, buddy?” the Stilinski frowned. “Zeke?”

The cat bristled, releasing a low yowl in warning. Sure, he was just a cat, and a young one at that, but he'd still protect his home, his daddy, with everything he had… which was why he clung to the older male with his claws when Stiles suddenly rose to his feet and went for the door. He had barely unlocked it when it slammed open, the handle banging a hole in the drywall.

 

Holding the distraught cat close, despite the hissing and spitting and growling, Stiles lifted his gaze… and felt his blood run cold. Red glowing eyes met wide whiskey brown in a moment that felt like forever. The two other men watched him calmly despite the electric blue of their eyes but it was obvious that they were itching to get going.

 

“Stilinski?” the Alpha asked, completely ignoring the furious spitting and swiping paws coming his way.

Stiles swallowed hard, unable to look away. He had thought he was free of shit like this, dammit!

“Yeah.” he managed to press out.

“ **Dr** Stilinski?”

“I'm-… I'm a veterinarian.”

“Good enough. Where's your bag?” the larger man growled, pushing into the apartment when neighbours started peeking out into the hallway wondering what was going on and what the banging was about.

 

Still holding on hard to Zeke, Stiles only frowned.

“What bag?”

“With your work stuff.”

“I don’t have any drugs! If you want money-” He was cut off by a loud grunt when a strong arm pushed him up against the wall, having him instinctively shielding Zeke… despite the child clawing at the arm. What _was_ it with werewolves and pushing people up against walls!?

“You know we’re not mere junkies or robbers.” one of the Betas snarled. “Now **where** is your fucking bag?”

“R- Right there!” the only human there pressed out, only mentally cursing over the use of crude language right in front of a small child. “Take it!”

“Oh, we intend to.”

 

-

 

‘ _Well, that evening certainly didn’t go according to plan.’_ Stiles thought worriedly, stuffed in the backseat of an expensive car while holding a shivering feline in his arms. Asking what was going on or where they were being taken hadn’t given anything but growls from the man next to him and by now his shoulders ached with tension. Neither could he see anything, courtesy of the paper bag over his head. ‘ _So rude!’_ He sighed, trying to peek down at Zeke to make sure he was alright, only to have his head slammed back against the head rest. He grunted in pain actually seeing pricks of dancing light behind his eyelids.

 

“Be careful with him.” the Alpha growled from behind the wheel. He was driving like he had stolen the car. “We need him conscious and clearheaded.”

Stiles would’ve piped up with a ‘yeah, watch the goods!’ but decided against it. Sarcasm hadn’t really been all that appreciated in Beacon Hills, he doubted it would be any more appreciated by this grumpy lot.

 

The next time he's shoved it out of the car and the bag is suddenly ripped off his head, making him a little dizzy, as one of the Betas pushed him forward up a few steps and in through a door… where Stiles stopped midstep and stared.

“Oh god!” he pressed out. “What on earth happened!?”

“Hunters.” came the calm answer from the Alpha. “We’re a strong and large pack and we follow the Code not harming any humans but we suspect they're rogues.” Tension seeped into his voice, betraying the calm on his features. “We tracked some of them down but many got away while we focused on helping our own.”

“But I'm a vet!” Stiles pressed out, taking in the sheer amount of injured ones in front of him. A certain Deaton didn’t even cross his mind at that point because there were _children_ there and they were **bleeding!** “Don’t you have a doctor within the pack!?”

The glance he got was tell-tale enough. Killed.

 

“We’ve been keeping an eye on you since we picked up the smell of that cat.” one of the Betas murmured, holding up Stiles’ bag. He whined lowly seeing his family this way because there was nothing he could do… other than to get this one human here to help. “We’re not exactly thrilled either that you’re our only option.”

The Stilinski nodded and swallowed hard.

“Someone has to take care of Zeke.” he said lowly, carefully untangling the whimpering werecat from his hoodie. “Zeke, you have to let go, buddy. There are children here that need help.” He swallowed hard again. “Please.”

Very unwillingly Zeke let go, but he didn’t shift either, yowling lowly.

 

Once his son was cared for Stiles grabbed his bag and nodded as he was shown into another room. One way of another he'd do this, help in any way he could, as much as a mere vet could help when what was truly needed was an ER team. He had barely put a pair of thin rubber gloves on before a small girl was brought to him… shot in the shoulder.

 

“I have no sedative or anaesthetic that is strong enough to numb or put her under and I only have one small bottle of-”

“The adults will manage without.” the Alpha pressed out, holding the girl still when told to. “What do you need?”

 

Focused on the children, so many children injured, many no older than 10, the Stilinski almost absentmindedly barked out orders for towels, hot water, rubbing alcohol, bandages, gauze and whatever else he could come up with that he thought could be found in someone’s home. The first aid-kit was long gone, its content laughable in the face of the current situation. He had no x-ray, no gas, no strong light, only the aid of untrained wolves around him… and his own hands… hands that had to find bullets inside children.

 

-

 

He must've worked with hyper focus for hours because when he actually noticed his surroundings again the sun was inching up over the horizon and he had his hand deep in yet another convulsing body. The Alpha and four Betas struggled to hold the man still while fingers that were starting to go numb but he felt it, the bullet, and he had to push deeper, trying desperately to ignore the sounds from the man as he finally managed to get hold of it and pull it out. He knew from experience that werewolves healed if only you got the silver out, be it arrows or bullets and he had sent a silent prayer of thanks to whomever it concerned that only a few had been shot with wolfsbane bullets. But apart from the burning of wolfsbane and the stitching up and cleaning, what actually took time was the fact that he had to _search_ for the arrowheads and bullets, and he knew it was as painful for the victim as it was draining on him.

 

He released a grunt when fingertips released the metallic pebble in the bowl with the rest of the retrieved bullets, immediately moving to clean and stitch the wound up. He was long since out of gauze but he had been handed strips and rags of what had been clean clothes and table cloths and whatever else they had found could be used. Hopefully the guy would manage anyways.

 

Stiles took a step back, panting heavily. He was bloody, sweaty, exhausted and starving… just like the men told to help him with holding down the patients as they were operated on awake and conscious. Suddenly Stiles knew what doctors at the frontline of war felt like.

“Next.” he managed to get out, seriously wondering how he was still standing, when he earned the shake of a head.

“Last one.” the man rasped.

“Merciful lord…” The vet abruptly collapsed against the wall behind him, not caring that he smeared red on creamy white. He pulled the gloves off not seeing how his hands shook. “Those of you who are uninjured need to raid a pharmacy, or a hospital, whichever you fancy, for gauze, mountains and mountains of gauze, alcohol, salves and just about everything else you can get your hands on. I doubt regular aspirin works on wolves but there's no harm in trying. Make sure everybody stays hydrated and don’t move around too much and throw some vitamins in there for the heck of it.”

 _Now_ he noticed how his hands trembled, barely but still.

“Where’s Zeke?”

“Right outside. He refused to leave.”

“Zeke!”

 

The cat squeezed himself in through the crack in the door as soon as it was opened wide enough, immediately heading for the man on the floor, shifting as tired arms wrapped around him. “Hello there, Puss. You alright?”

“Mm.” was the only answer… along with his tummy growling.

“I guess we should get you something to eat, huh?” Tired whiskey brown eyes turned to the men carefully helping the barely conscious man off the dinner table makeshift operation table, and out of the room. Stiles knew they'd come back for them, he was certain of that much… hopefully he wasn’t considered a danger to the pack now that his ‘services’ were no longer required, or needed. Right in this very moment though he was too tired to care and he was definitely grateful that he had the weekend off.

 

He must've nodded off because when he woke up, probably only minutes later, the Alpha sat on his heels in front of him.

“Thank you.” he said lowly, the words surely difficult for him to voice.

Stiles merely nodded. He knew enough about Alphas to know that that they didn’t bow their heads to a mere human without a damn good reason. The less attention to this particular statement the better.

Funny how Derek had barked ‘Alpha, Alpha, Alpha’ all the time trying to get Stiles to shut up when it was a different Alpha harvesting the fruits of his labour.

“Can we go home now?” he asked instead. “Zeke here is just a small boy, he's hungry and scared and I've got work at home that needs to be taken care of.”

 

The man hesitated then… but shook his head.

“No, we can’t let you go quite yet. But we can get you something to eat.” Blue eyes moved over the exhausted human in an onceover, flashing red for just a second. “And a shower and clean clothes.”

 

A strong hand helped heaving the Stilinski to his feet, Zeke still in Stiles’s arms and all, the Alpha leading him out of the house which ended up being some kind of gathering hall. The vet didn’t bother trying to figure out where he was, they were in a forest somewhere and that was all he needed to know. He could see more houses between the trees but they turned towards one of the biggest ones and ended up in a rather luxurious kitchen… where an obviously pregnant woman offered them a pale smile.

 

“You’re Stiles Stilinski.” she said lowly. It wasn’t a question but it earned her a nod. “I'm Melody, the lucky mate of Chance over there. Are you hungry?” Warm eyes landed on the boy clinging to Stiles like a small octopus. “Maybe some toast and warm milk?”

“Sounds lovely.” the human pressed out, putting the boy down on a barstool by the kitchen island. He wanted to shower more than eat right now but he knew that food would have to go first, probably followed by whatever talk the Alpha wanted to have with him. Most likely something along the lines of ‘breathe a word about us and die of teeth to throat-syndrome’ or something. Stuff never seemed to get old.

 

“You’ve been around werewolves before, haven’t you, Mr Stilinski?”

Okay, food **and** talk it is. Talk about shooting from the hip!

“Eh…” Werewolves and their blasted hearing! No use in lying. “…yeah, I have.”

“Who?”

“I won’t tell you.” Stiles replied so calmly he surprised himself.

Chance blinked at him, equally surprised. There was a flash of red in his eyes but he didn’t move though.

“Why?”

“Because they’re not related to anything going on here.” the Stilinski shrugged. “And I haven’t been in touch with any of them for years.”

“You’re not pack?” Melody frowned while putting down a cup of warm milk in front of Zeke. “Wolves don’t just let any human out there in on their secrets.”

 

The flinch her question earned her was painstakingly obvious, and if they hadn’t seen it they could probably smell the distress and him… along with a burning fury that hadn’t lessened at all over the years.

“No, I'm not pack.” he murmured stroking the boy over the head fondly.

“Yet you're still protecting them.”

He shrugged again.

“Occupational hazard. I won’t tell you about them any more than I'll tell them about you. Completely unrelated topics as far as I'm concerned.”

“That’s quite… noble of you.” the female murmured. Again she glanced at the child. She knew as well as everybody else in the pack what he was. A stray hitting the jackpot was the only way to put it really.

 

“Our only doctor was killed by the hunters.” Chance suddenly piped up. “We need a new doctor.”

“I'm a vet.” Stiles deadpanned.

“And we can turn into wolves.” the Alpha replied just as dryly. “The pack will protect you and the child, you will want for nothing.”

“But…?” A dark brow rose calmly. “That kind of offer never comes without a but so what's the catch?”

“You’ll be part of the pack.”

“Really?” the Stilinski chuckled. “And what more? Becoming pack is kind of obvious.” Whiskey brown eyes met flashing red straight on. “It’s the not so obvious I'm waiting to hear.”

“You’ll have to be claimed, mated to one of my Betas.”

 

“Whoa! So it’s either _work_ my ass off to pay my rent or _offer_ my ass up to pay my rent, is that what you're saying!?” He had had enough sense to cover innocent ears before bursting. “Dude, it’s certainly generous of you but I don’t need to be mated to help you out when you need it!” Gods, he had reversed to this high school flailing, hadn’t he? “I already have a job-”

“But you're thinking of quitting.”

“-and a place to live, Zeke has school where he's making friends and to be really frank about all this, I'm not even sure I **want** to get married… and certainly not wolf-married.” Stiles babbled on, ignoring the low growl from the Alpha… although Zeke tensed a bit over his jelly toast. “Like I said, I’d be more than happy to help out when you need it-”

“An unmated human isn’t safe in a werewolf-pack!” Chance growled.

“Where do I need to become pack?”

 

The question was thrown out almost carelessly… but Stiles refused to back down. Deaton had never been pack and yet it was his table all of them had ended up on more times than he bothered thinking about. Some of the Stilinski's own scars had been stitched together by the creepy bastard. _‘Breathe, man, breathe! The last thing you need is a panic attack right now.’_

 

“Do you have something against being mated to a wolf?” Melody asked softly knowing her mate was too furious, and a tad bit too stunned from the looks of it, for words right now. However, her low question was enough to make Stiles's defences crumble. He more or less collapsed on a chair next to Zeke, all air leaving him in a heavy sigh.

“No, I don’t have anything against wolves or their mates. If I did I wouldn’t be here, its just-… I want **love.** ” he finally pressed out, the last word bitter on his tongue. “If I'm going to be mated to anyone I want it to be because I _love_ that person, wolf, whatever, and I'm loved in return, not because I have to for the sake of lunar cycles and heats. Laugh all you want but is that too much to ask? For genuinely reciprocated feelings? I’d love to be mated… but for the right reasons.” Again, calm eyes met the Alpha’s. “What you're offering isn’t it.”

“But you can at least consider it, can’t you?” Chance murmured, softer now that he understood. It was obvious to anyone blessed with the gift of sight that it was a werewolf that had had the human so cautious and wary… and that had caused him such long-lasting heartache. “Open a clinic in town if you want, there’re a lot of pets here, get a house and when you're ready we’ll handle it then, how about it?”

“You have known me less than an hour, why are you offering me this so easily?”

 

Chance merely shrugged.

“Instinct.” Then he flashed the suspicious human a toothy grin. “And common sense. You have a cat for a pup, you work with animals and you have prior experience with our kind. Not to forget your smell, you smell like-”

“Please don’t answer that.”

 

The wolves chuckled. And Stiles mentally rolled his eyes. _‘Awesome. Story of my life, being ran over by wolves despite moving to the other end of the fucking country.’_ “I'll think about it.” was all he said.

 

-

 

“No, really, Nathan. I think I can find on my own from here.” Stiles hefted up the sleeping child higher on his hip, holding out a hand for his bag. “That’s my jeep, right over there.”

The Beta shook his head though, refusing to hand it over.

“I was ordered to make sure you were safely back **home** , not safely back to your parking lot.”

“All the way to the door it is.” the Stilinski sighed not bothering to check if the other followed or not as he started walking.

“And inside the apartment.”

“…and inside. Got it.” Whiskey brown glanced at the other man from under thick long lashes. _‘How the hell do all werewolves end up being so freaking hot anyways? Do you guys go all like ‘screw the gene pool!’ and just **become** ridiculously attractive because it’s your fucking right or something? Fuck that.’_

“Eh… I've never heard that particular opinion before.”

 

Stiles stopped dead in his tracks, staring with all levels of horrified at the bloke next to him.

“I said that out loud?” That was a manly squeak, yup, definitely a manly squeak.

“Well… yeah? You think I'm hot?” Nathan had the nerve to look smug, blue eyes flashing for just a second.

“So are the dudes on the cover of GQ, doesn’t mean I'm attracted to them so don’t get any funny ideas. Besides, I'm not into blondes.” he snapped mentally cursing his brain-to-mouth filter. It hadn’t malfunctioned in years, dammit! At least not much.

“I’d be happy if you did.”

“Watch out, we've got a charmer.” Stiles muttered stepping inside the elevator. “And don’t flash your eyes at me, mister, I'm immune.”

“Really?”

“Trust me, I've been around enough supernatural critters not to shiver at colour-shifting eyeballs anymore.”

“Like…?”

“That’s for me to know and for you to ponder, buddy. Well, this is my door, thanks for the food and the ride and-… yeah, let’s make sure there's no bogeyman while we’re at it. Geez…”

“You contain a surprising amount of sarcasm for being such a small man.” Nathan replied having made sure everything was as it should be.

 

Stiles rolled his eyes in a tired sigh. This felt way too much like high school all over again.

“Yeah? Well, sarcasm is my only defence. And I'm not small, thank you very much. **You're** built like a brick shithouse.”

“Thank you.” That obviously earned him the stinkeye but he said nothing of it.

“Anyways, _Nathan,_ again, thanks for the ride-”

“You’re kicking me out.” Not a question.”

“Yes!” came the slightly too fast answer.

“You’re rude.”

“And there's more where that came from.”

“My wolf likes you.”

“Your wolf obviously has issues.”

“That’s **really** rude!”

“I have the right to be rude, I'm in my own house.”

“You have absolutely no self-preservation instinct, have you?”

“Sure I do, you just don’t trigger it.” Stiles finally snapped… only to earn a chuckle. Seriously, considering the effect most werewolves had on his temper it was nothing short of a miracle he had survived when he ended up in Scott's mess… not counting all the monsters and whatnots that had tried to kill or maim him in various ways on a regular basis. A little growling and eyeing was nothing compared to what he had seen before. But then he continued, calmer. “Look, I'm exhausted and all I want is sleep, and I have a kid that is probably more traumatized than I am so see yourself out and yes, I will lock and bolt the door behind you.” A pale hand over the other’s face elicited a growl when the wolf moved closer but Stiles had no interest in cooperating. “No scenting.”

“I just want to-”

“No. Get out.”

“You’ll drive half the pack insane with your complete disregard for hierarchy when you join us.”

“ **If** I join you.”

“If you say so. Lock the door behind me.”

“ **Behind** **you** being the keywords here.”

 

Nathan grinned as he left but stopped sight outside the door to make sure the frail human _did_ lock before he went to bed. Stiles on the other hand wasted no time in carefully pouring Zeke into his pyjamas and into bed before he collapsed on his own bed fully clothed, asleep before his head had even hit the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm no vet and I'm no legal-wiz either so I've taken some liberties with both subjects. Please try to overlook the quirky details.


	3. Chapter Three

He woke up late in the afternoon, a bit groggy but decided against going back to sleep. He needed to make dinner and probably go through his medicinal bag to see if he had everything he left with. Not to mention he'd have to sterilize everything when he got back to work on Monday and oh, the missing drugs, wouldn’t that be a fun one to explain! ‘You see, I was kidnapped by an Alpha werewolf and two of his Betas, taken to some random place in the forest to where they live and spend half a day digging for bullets and arrowheads made out of silver out of kids and adults alike. They're not exactly that easy to drug ya know, so I ended up using up everything I had on the first five patients.’ Yeah, they'd so buy that one.

 

Although Stiles had to admit that Chance’s offer had planted a seed. Sure, he had a good job and he loved it but opening his very own clinic… he had thought about it before but not much since he had intended to live a happy bachelor’s life in the Big City with everything such a lifestyle entailed. That had been before Zeke came along. Dating didn’t really appeal to him that much anymore, not when a potential partner had to be kind of introduced to the supernatural first, unless they _were_ supernatural that is. Having a house of his own though did appeal to him, a small house for him and his son and-… Zeke was a gift, a precious precious gift. He was something Stiles hadn’t really seen in his future before the child came into his life. Being bisexual had a lot to do with it but also the sheer fact that he simply had never even thought about kids. Zeke was a surprise, but a beloved one.

 

Having gone through everything yesterday had thrown at them Stiles decided a celebratory breakfast-, brunch-… dinner, to eat, whatever, a celebratory _meal_ was in order, something yummy and unhealthy. It made him wonder about his father though. Did he eat healthily like he was supposed to? Ms McCall had promised to keep an eye on the sheriff for him but he also knew she was busy at the hospital. Actually… why not call him and ask?

 

He glanced at the clock on the wall, calculating the time difference. His dad was definitely at work right now. A minute later Stiles sat on the couch in the living room waiting for his father to pick up.

 _‘Sheriff Stilinski.’_ came the curt answer.

“Hi, dad.”

 _‘Stiles? Wait, I'll just close the door.’_ There was the sound of a door closing, shutting out the noise from the rest of the station, and then the voice returned. _‘Stiles! You haven’t called your old man in weeks… did something happen?’_

“Do I need a reason to call my dad?”

_‘Of course not! It’s just, you know, I'm used to there being some kind of emergency whenever you call me.’_

“Ow, dad, that one stung a bit.” Stiles grimaced. “Sorry ‘bout that.” He lifted his arm when a yawning Zeke came up to the couch, happily cuddling up to him and purring. “I can only imagine the grey hairs.”

 

The older Stilinski laughed out loud on the other end.

_‘No worries. Life certainly never got boring with you around and I'm happy you turn to me whenever you need help. Speaking of which, a woman called me from social services the other day. They sure like to be thorough, don’t they? She peppered me with as many questions about me as she did about you. Everything from grades to temper to hobbies and friends and quirks. She even asked me about your sex life!’_

“Or lack thereof.”

_‘Well, I couldn’t really put it that way. That would hardly help your case.’_

“Thanks, dad.” The younger man glanced down at the curious boy who had almost managed to crawl into his lap without being noticed. Sneaky sneaky. “By the way… there's someone here who wants to greet you.” Having put the phone on speaker he handed it to a wide eyed Zeke. Smiling softly he whispered, “Go on, say hallo to your gramps, son.”

 

Small hands took the phone carefully, wide chocolate coloured eyes still staring at him.

“Hello?” he asked unsurely. “G- grandp- pa?”

 _‘And you must be Zeke!’_ came the suddenly very soft reply. _‘I've heard so much about you.’_

“Daddy told me stories about his da-, I mean, about you, grandpa!”

 _‘All lies I assure you.’_ the older man chuckled, fully aware of that Stiles rolled his eyes. _‘I heard you and Sti-, I mean, your daddy, are coming here for the holidays. Are you looking forward to that?’_

Cue Zeke gushing words! Take Papa Stilinski to make a shy child babble.

 

The boy told him about all the animals he had seen at the clinic when his daddy brought him along on weekends, about Mrs Burr, about school and how he was learning to read and the books Stiles read to him when it was time for bed and about how he was going trick or treating on Halloween! The sheriff ooh’ed and aah’ed in all the right places, asked all the right questions and laughed out loud again when a slightly sulking Zeke let him know he had been made to eat green beans and boiled carrots… on more than one occasion.

 

_‘When you get here your gramps will take you out for an ice-cream bigger than you, okay?’_

“As long as yours is low-fat, old man!” Stiles piped up from the kitchen. The upside of living in a small apartment with open planning, he could hear everything clearly. He had set about preparing burgers while the two got to know each other… with salad.

 _‘Killjoy.’_ the sheriff muttered, earning a giggle from the boy. _‘I eat rabbit food every day, isn’t that enough?’_

“No, you don’t. You cheat, we both know it, so no, it's not. Be happy I'm putting yams on the table for Christmas… with gravy.”

_‘Low-fat ice-cream, yum!’_

“That’s more like it.”

 _‘Well, boys.’_ the older Stilinski finally sighed. _‘I have to return to work but I'm really happy I got to talk to you, both of you, and to get to know you a little, Zeke. Now I can’t wait for Christmas when you both get here!’_

“Yeah, we too. Love you, dad.”

_‘Love you too, son. And you, Zeke. Be safe, boys.’_

“Bye, grandpa!” Zeke shouted happily before hanging up… and flinging himself at his dad, nearly sending him faceplanting into the hood. His eyes were sparkling though when Stiles turned to look at him. Stiles chuckled softly, petting Zeke's head.

“Go wash your hands, Puss.”

 

-

 

“Dr Stiles? May I have a word with you?”

Offering a crying little girl a warm smile, once again trying to reassure her that her bunny would be perfectly fine in a few days, the younger vet followed his employer down the hall and into his office once the hiccupping girl and her mother had left.

“Sir? Is something wrong?” he asked carefully when the door was closed.

The older man looked up, surprised.

“No, should something be?”

“Well…no, but your tone of voice…” Stiles had managed to hide the fact that he had restocked the ‘mini-pharmacy’ in his bag, and generously at that, and silently prayed that this wasn’t him getting fired because his boss had found out about it and thought he was a secret drug addict. Losing his job was the last thing he wanted to happen, he couldn’t afford to lose his job else he'd lose Zeke too.

 

His unsure reply earned him a chuckle as he was motioned to take a seat.

“No need to worry, son. It’s not bad news.”

“Okay…?”

“Actually, I’d like to think it’s quite the opposite.” came the cheery answer. “You’ve been here for 4 years now, Dr Stiles, and I have to say I'm impressed with your work. You're punctual, work hard, efficient, bright, caring and the nurses as well as our patients absolutely adore you. I’d like to talk to you about being my partner, about joint ownership.”

“That’s very-… generous, sir.” Stiles managed to press out after a minute of stunned silence. “I'm very flattered, sir, but I'm thinking about moving to a smaller town. I have Zeke and and-”

“You’ve been offered a job at another clinic? Or have you applied for a job at another clinic?”

“No! Actually, I've been entertaining the thought about maybe opening my own… sir? Out on the country, so you wouldn’t have to worry about competing for clients. I really do like it here and everybody have been so good to me and so nice but I have a boy and a child needs a garden and a forest to play in rather than alleys and parking lots and I'm thinking about buying a house and-…” The Stilinski frowned. “Are you laughing… sir?”

 

Indeed, the older vet was laughing and he laughed louder when the younger only looked more and more confused.

“And there I was worried I’d have to write recommendation letters to other clinics rather than writing recommendation letters to banks. I was greedily hoping I could keep you here since you're great for business but I will not stand in the way of your future, whatever it may be, if you decide to open your own place. Just let me know, son, and I'll butter up the bank for you.”

 

Completely dumbshot Stiles just sat there, gaping like a fish out of its bowl. What-? Had this just happened? He blinked comically at the older man, frowning, yet couldn’t get a single word out.

Little did the other know he had accomplished what could be considered a miracle by some, making Stiles completely speechless. Well, at least for a moment.

“Wow, that’s-, I mean, wow, how awesome-, I mean generous!” he finally managed to squeak, a manly squeak mind you of course! Manly! Actually, this felt surreal!

His boss nodded.

 

“Think your options through carefully, boy.”

“Of course!” Stiles rose to his feet but had barely reached the door when he was called again. “Yes, sir?”

“When you decide to help strays,” There was a mischievous glint in the older man’s eyes. “It **is** okay to say so. Don’t lie and make yourself look stupid.”

“Strays… sir?”

“I saw you sterilize all your equipment, Dr Stiles, and while trying to hide it. Tell-tale enough really. It is okay to admit your love of animals is so great that you even want to help strays.”

Okay, he might’ve squeaked this time.

“Yes, sir, of course, sir, I'm so sorry, sir!” He more or less fled the office, accompanied by the sound of his boss’s rumbling laughter. Great, now they'd all think he was a big softie instead of a man’s man for helping homeless animals. Granted, Zeke had been the only actual stray he had helped but Stiles was hardly going to explain to his co-workers that he had spent a day and a half patching up werewolves and the occasional human. If they thought he was a softie… well, then that was a small price to pay considering it made things a lot easier for him.

 

-

 

“Dr Stiles, won’t you give me a loving new home?”

“Puppy eyes don’t work on me, Nathan, and certainly not when they come from you. And I’d take you straight to the shelter.”

“Aww, that’s harsh.”

“I grew up with Scott, buddy, you’ve got nothing on his Bambi-eyes and crooked jaw.” And yet Stiles chuckled as he walked to his battered jeep next to the Beta. “If anything, your place is probably bigger and better than mine, _you_ should take _me_ in.”

“I would if you'd let me.” Nathan replied softly.

The shorter man shrugged.

“If it had been just that I probably would’ve accepted but as it stands it’s not just about a place to live, is it?” He side eyed the wolf calmly.  “I'm not interested in being ‘kept’ any more than you are and I have a son to think about before myself.”

“As the pack’s doctor-”

“Vet.”

“-you'd be respected and treated thereafter, and no one wishes your boy any harm.” Nathan answered lowly, almost urgently. “Why would we want harm on the person who will help us, or his family?”

“But I’d still be kept, wouldn’t I? You never argued about that.”

“Not in the way you think, Stiles.”

“Then tell me, **how** I would be kept. Enlighten me. You're the Alpha’s brother, a strong Beta with potential to take over should it be needed, why would you mate with a human, because let me tell you right now, at this point in life, I have no interest in the Bite whatsoever.”

 

“What on earth did that pack _do_ to you to make you so insecure!?”

Stiles flinched like he had been slapped rather than asked a question.

“Nothing.”

“Well, that’s obviously a lie.” The wolf rolled his eyes.

“I **hate** werewolves.” the Stilinski muttered under his breath while unlocking his car. Damn their heightened senses!

“That too.”

“Screw you, Nathan.”

“How did they hurt you?”

“Nathan, I don’t-”

“Answer me!” There might’ve been a plea somewhere in that low growl.

 

The veterinarian silenced at the flash of blue and hint of claws. He sighed rubbing his face tiredly. It was dark outside, the days were a lot colder and they had released a warning for snow. In two weeks Stiles would go trick or treating with a mini-batman… while he was dressed up as a fucking Weiner dog of all things. His life was nothing like it had been or what he had thought it’d be… so why was it so hard to talk about these things? They happened years ago. Water under the bridge and all that. Ha! Hardly.

 

“They-… they used me, okay?” he finally muttered, fully aware of that the other would hear him clearly no matter how low he spoke. “My best friend got bitten by accident more than anything and long **long** story short, he became part of that pack. I helped out with mainly research but also everything from witches, pixies, Alpha-packs, harpies, sirens, lizards, you name it, we fought it. I helped because they _needed_ the help and because he needed the support through all the supernatural bullshit that was suddenly hurled at the both of us.” Sighing again Stiles let his head fall back against the jeep which he was leaning against. “ **Crazy** 2 years, during which I saw more nasties than I ever wanted to or thought I’d have to, and then just a few days before graduation from high school, during a pack-meeting, I find out that I'm not a ‘real’ pack-member and could I see myself out so the others could get down to real business? Turns out that I have _never_ been considered pack and the only reason I was allowed to ‘tag along’ on their little ‘adventures’ was because of my best friend. But now that everybody was going to college I had reached my expiration date and how about **them** balls, hm?” He shrugged again, finally moving to open the door. “Funny thing is, as soon as they needed anything researched, translated, written, mixed or just plain done that **they** couldn’t be bothered with ‘because they were _wolves_ ’, they came to me and for an awkward high schooler who had never been seen or noticed, being needed and _part_ of something was awesome. Obviously I was wrong though and ever since I finished their last ‘assignment’ for me I haven’t contacted or heard from them even once.” Tired whiskey brown eyes met the silent Beta’s. “After that incident my fascination and respect for everything lupine affected by lunar cycles, kind of wore off so tell me, as a mated human of a large pack, how would I not be kept? Because I value my independence and freedom a lot more today than I did back then.”

 

“I'm sorry.” It came out as a whine, just barely a whine. “I didn’t know they treated you that bad, Stiles, I'm sorry.” He could smell the frustration and anger on the Stilinski and he could hear the elevated heartbeat, but more than anything… he could sense the hurt and betrayal. He never would understand how they could have treated Stiles that way. Pack or not, it was wrong. More than wrong if they had let him believe he was pack.

“So you don’t trust werewolves?” he asked lowly, only to earn a very deep and heavy sigh.

“As far as I'm concerned, they only _want_ something from me. I'm a tool to be used and I won’t have it anymore, so no, I don’t trust werewolves.” Stiles looked Nathan right in the eyes. “You’re no exception.” Having said that he finally got in the jeep, put in first gear and drove off leaving a silent Beta where he stood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not expert at anything, please ignore any wonky details -_-  
> Comments may or may not have proved faster updates... it's just so FUN to post chapters when people comment! 8D


	4. Chapter Four

Two days later could find Dr Stilinski and ‘Stilinski Jr.’ at the veterinarian clinic where Zeke enjoyed himself royally with kittens and puppies while Stiles worked. The nurses went positively gaga over the shy little ray of sunshine and spoiled him rotten with hot cocoa and cookies when they thought ‘senior’ couldn’t see. He was fully aware though and knew dinner was ruined… but every once in a while it was okay and he wanted Zeke to have this.

 

Sighing he turned a stern eye to the teen in front of him. Why weren’t cats, dogs, bunnies or birds enough as pets anymore because this kid had brought in a snake of all things! He mentally shuddered thinking about a certain reptile from long ago.  But this image was hilarious really.

 

In front of him stood a surly teenage boy with dyed black hair pointing in all directions under the sun, a thick studded leather collar around his neck and what could only be described as a gold lame Lolita suit… with an equally anxious soccer mom behind him. The kid wore enough makeup for the both of them although Stiles had to admire and respect the woman for letting her son go his own way and still be supportive of his choices.

“So, Michael-”

“ _Michelle._ ” the woman corrected. “He wants to be called _Michelle._ ”

“Of course, sorry, my bad, _Michelle_ , what have you been feeding-, uh, Wildflower, here?”

“Mostly marshmallows.” came the low answer.

 

The Stilinski mentally grimaced. Seriously? Well, that would explain at least a few of the questions.

“Wildflower needs mice to munch on. Pet stores sell feeder-mice that are intended for that purpose. One mouse every week and then every 10 days makes Wildflower a very happy Ball Python. She's underweight now but I've given her vitamins and I'll give you a pamphlet with instructions for proper care, environment and so on, okay? And no more marshmallows! Those are for boys, not for snakes.”

 

20 minutes later the couple left with a newly fed and happy Wildflower and a happily smiling gothic boy. They weren’t the craziest Stiles had ever seen though. He had plucked Legos out of dogs and shaved an entire cat free of glitter glue. That one still made him shudder. The poor creature had wailed and yowled through it all and had looked so very miserable afterwards.

 

Having checked in on his boy and seen three suspiciously innocent looking nurses smiling back at him, thank god Zeke was immune to sugar highs, he sauntered out to the waiting room for his next appointment… only to be met with a smiling Alpha.

“Chance.” he greeted good-naturedly, resolutely ignoring the Beta. “What brings you to my humble part of the world?” His back tensed. “Did something happen? Is everybody okay?”

It earned him another smile, albeit a slightly pointed one.

“Everything is fine, no need to worry. I came with an offer actually.”

 

Stiles blinked blankly at the wolf.

“And you couldn’t have called for that? Someone took liberties with my phone-” A pale hand pushed a pale face away from his neckline. “-so I'm positive my number is available to you.”

 

Both of them ignored the discreet whine, not that there was anyone in the room besides them.

“Of course, but that seems a bit impersonal and Melody demanded me to give you these while I was at it.”

“Are these homemade pumpkin muffins?” the Stilinski nearly drooled.

“Yup, she likes you enough to share them with you… so you should celebrate Halloween with us.”

 

With a hand already in the bag Stiles jerked up to stare at the other man, warm brown eyes having turned saucer wide.

“Wha-, what?” Dammit, what **was** it with him and squeaking lately?  _Manly_ squeaking thank you very much but squeaking nonetheless. “Run that by me again and talk to me like I'm 2.” He turned to Nathan who had inched closer again, and glared, holding up a finger. “One more step and I swear I'll put a cone on you.”

 

Chance bit back the laughter opting for musing instead. He'd so hold that over his brother’s head in the car back home though, be so sure.

“The children are going trick or treating so I wondered if maybe you'd like to bring your boy and join us?” His voice turned a fraction lower. “Should there be any ‘accidents’ then no one will care particularly. It’ll be safe.”

“Zeke doesn’t react to the phases of a certain celestial body.” A brow rose slowly. “Which as far as I know will reach a fully visible _circular_ shape during Halloween.”

Chance shrugged.

“Some scenting of the both of you and there's nothing to worry about. The children don’t get aggressive, the adults have control and those who don’t are taken care of.”

“Grounded to their rooms I take it?”

He was gifted with two toothy grins.

“Exactly.”

 

Stiles took a bite of a muffin, sending the Beta another warning glare while considering his options.

“It’s a really long drive just for some candy.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Chance huffed. “Obviously you'd stay the weekend.”

Okay, so those were his options. He could let his boy try the neighbours before they returned home to watch a movie and munch on yummies consisting of tuna and prawns… _or_ they could go out to Chance’s pack where no one would freak if the boy shifted and where he could play with other weres in the forest knowing he was safe. Tough decision, tough decision indeed. Actually, Stiles didn’t want to go but he was a parent now and he would always put Zeke first.

 

“Will there be food?”

“What had you expected of a large family that _eat like wolves_?”

“Enough for you to roll back home. We’ll even make sure there's fish.”

“Will I have to sleep in anyone's bed or will I be offered one of my own?”

“You shoot from the hip, don’t you, Dr Stilinski?” the higher ranked wolf rolled his eyes sighing. Not that Stiles cared.

“I ask questions I want answers to. Smalltalk hasn’t been my thing for years. If anything, you should be honest considering you're the ones who want me to uproot my life and move to your town, which for the record I'm still considering and nothing else.” He swallowed hard at the piercing looks his ramble earned him. “I may or may have not have looked a bit at properties around the area but like I said, I still haven’t deci-DAMMIT, NATHAN, BAD DOG!”

 

The expressions his snapping temper earned him were absolutely priceless. The two wolves were completely fucking dumbshot… for about a second. Chance’s snort was the beginning of it, shaking the middle and a complete guffaw the bridge that lead the Alpha having to turn around, leaning on his knees while basically howling with laughter. Nathan… well, Nathan looked absolutely mortified.

 

Stiles had expected either or both of them to get pissed for the dog-reference, possibly aim form some throat-ripping, this? Not so much. Not that he was complaining, he liked his jugular the way it was.

“Eh… sorry about that.” he muttered around more muffin. “It’s a bad habit, bad, bad habit.”

“No worries, Dr Stilinski.” the Alpha virtually giggled, stroking tears from his eyes. “I have the nagging suspicion that nothing less would’ve swayed him.”

“And you call yourself my brother.”

“Yes, I do and I've waited for the moment when someone immune to your charm comes along. **Finally** I get to see you stumped!” Chance turned a slightly evil shit-eating grin towards the once more speechless Stilinski. “If not for your services, please join us for this at least, doctor. It'll do him good being knocked down a peg or two and to answer your question, yes, you get your own room for you and your boy. As long as you're scented when you leave the house.”

“And that’s _really_ necessary?”

“Yes.”

“By whom?”

“Any Beta of your choice.” the Alpha offered generously, ignoring a certain Beta’s whine.

 

That seemed to calm the human down… until he suddenly frowned. It truly amazed the wolf how the Stilinski's mind could work so fast and in so many directions at once. Indeed, he'd make a wonderful addition to an already strong pack. Stiles carefully looked around, making sure no one could hear, before asking the really important question.

“I want you to promise me that there won’t be any incident of _canines_ chasing any _felines_.” he said lowly, his voice showing hints of steel. “Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

“Then I accept the offer of celebrating Halloween with you and your-… lot.”

“That’s great! Then we will come and pick you up on Friday.”

“I have a car and a driver’s license. I can drive there.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Dr Stilinski, we’ll come pick you up. After all, we have business in town so we’ll be heading home anyways.”

“So why use two cars when we all fit in one anyway?”

The Stilinski nodded… and seriously considered getting that cone when once again he had to push Nathan away from his neckline.

 

-

 

“Can I call grandpa?” Zeke's voice was low, hopeful, as he murmured the question not 5 minutes after they had returned home. “Can I tell him about Halloween, can I?” Warm brown eyes widened when the older man merely hauled his phone up, pressed speed dial and handed it over with a smile before going to put away the groceries. A pale hand ruffled his hair lovingly as he passed but he didn’t say anything, merely smiled softly.

2 ring tones went through, 3 and then someone finally picked up.

 _‘Sheriff Stilinski here.’_ came a gruff voice.

“Grandpa!”

 _‘Zeke!’_ the older Stilinski laughed. _‘How are things on the east coast?’_

“It’s really good! Daddy says it might snow soon!”

_‘We don’t usually get that much of that here so don’t be disappointed if there is none when you come, buddy.’_

“It’s okay, I've seen snow before.” Zeke assured happily.

_‘Have you now?’_

“Yes! It was really pretty but very cold!” He pretended to freeze but failed when he giggled. “And we're going trick or treating in the forest and the wolves promised not to chase me and there will be lots of candy and I'm going as Batman and daddy’s a Weiner dog and Nathan wore a cone, he didn’t like it but couldn’t take it off, and daddy promised we’d see _‘Aristocats’_ again and and-”

 _‘Breathe, buddy!’_ The sheriff’s voice was tense when he continued. _‘So you're going to celebrate Halloween… with wolves? Out in the forest?’_

“Mhm! He said that we’d spend the entire weekend there because they are so nice and invited us!” the child bubbled.

_‘That sounds… lovely. Hey, Batman, will you let me talk to that Weiner dog for a little bit?’_

Zeke giggled again but nodded. Then he remembered his grandpa couldn’t see it and added, “Okay!”

 

Stiles grimaced when he took the phone from the boy who literally bounced off the couch to his room to play.

“Hi, dad.” he chirped knowing it didn’t fool anyone, least of all his old man.

_‘So you're celebrating Halloween with a pack of wolves now, son?’_

The younger man grimaced again. “Yup.”

_‘And how did that happen?’_

“They invited us.”

_‘Uh huh.’_

“Don’t worry, the Alpha promised me there would be no chewing or chasing of small Zekes so it’s okay!” he pressed out. “I've been out to their territory before and they're really nice and there will be lots of food and Puss can run around with their kids and and-”

_‘Breathe, son.’_

 

Stiles took a deep breath, knowing he was about to drop a bomb.

“They want me to join their pack.” He must've accidentally swallowed a chew toy or something because this was ridiculous! Well, it was his story and he was sticking to it.

 _‘…what?’_ The sheriff cleared his throat. _‘A pack on the east coast wants you to join them?’_ he repeated carefully, making sure he got this right. _‘Did they offer you the Bite too?’_

“Technically… no. But I know they’ll give it to me if I ask for it.” Stiles swallowed hard and soldiered on. “They want me to become the pack-doctor, well, vet, and have made me a really generous offer.  It’s in a small town, like Beacon Hills, with lots of greenery and my boss offered to write a letter of recommendation to the bank if I want to open my own clinic… and I'm seriously considering it, dad. I'm thinking about buying a house.” he continued softly. “With a porch swing and a large garden and a garage. I'm a parent now and I don’t want Zeke to grow up on a big city street.”

_‘Yeah, but… what about home?’_

 

Stiles shrugged, somehow knowing his dad knew he did it.

“Beacon Hills hasn’t really been home for a long time, you know?” he sighed. “I mean, **you're** there and you're home but I thought that maybe if things go well… maybe you could come to us?” He took a deep breath. “I miss you, dad, and I want you close to us. I know you're working way too hard and if you lived with us I’d take care of you, you could work less and Zeke would love to have his gramps so close by. I mean… if you want to that is?”

 

A minute of silence passed… and then,

 _‘I'm… I'm pack, son.’_ the sheriff murmured.

“I know.” came the soft answer.

_‘What? How?’_

Again the younger of the two shrugged. “Whenever I came to visit I saw neither snout nor tail of the local werewolf-pack… because you **asked** them to stay away.” he replied calmly. “And I've learned the hard way that pack-members never do non pack-members favours for free. Besides, their Alpha is your deputy.” But then he released a little chuckle. “It’s okay, dad. Knowing you're not alone calms me down a lot and makes me worry a little less.”

 _‘But you're still going to belong to another pack.’_ The way he said it was so final. Well, it certainly made things easier for Stiles. He felt lighter somehow.

“Yeah, I guess…”

_‘Will that make you happy, son? Because that’s all that matters.’_

 

It lured a little smile to Stiles’ lips and he chuckled softly.

“Yeah. My own house, my own business, my family, what more can a guy ask for? I've even started saving so Zeke can go to college.”

_‘…I haven’t heard you say the word **love** even once, son.’_

“I love you, dad.”

_‘You know what I mean.’_

“If I join the pack, that will come eventually, probably. Maybe.”

_‘Very convincing.’_

“It’s better than the option.”

_‘Which is…?’_

“Hey, I've got to prepare dinner, hopefully Zeke isn’t too full on cookies so he can eat at least a little, so I gotta go now, but I'll talk to you soon, okay?”

_‘Stiles, what is-’_

“I love you, dad. Really.”

_‘...I love you too, son.’_

“Bye!”

 

-

 

The sheriff sighed as he put the phone receiver down. This new turn of events worried him, a lot, and sadly enough he was the only one. Well, maybe he could do something about that. Hauling up his phone he sent a text… and got a response not a minute later. Good.

 

-

 

Sheriff John Stilinski was a calm man, a perk given his chosen profession and if there was one thing he had it would be patience. He sure had gotten some after being rather rudely introduced to the world of things that go bump in the night at least. It was that patience that had him sitting calmly through the regular pack-meeting about whatever disaster they'd be facing next, listening to discussions about monsters, tracks, procedures, arms and consequences, it was also that patience that kept him from snapping when the meeting was adjourned until more information about whatever current creature-feature had been gathered and the members moved to leave.

“Sit your asses back down.” Okay, so maybe he had been worn a little thin. His voice tolerated no objections and caused more than one startled look to be directed at him. “I want to speak, not as pack, so calm down, Hale. I want to speak… as Stiles’ father.”

 

A nod from the Alpha was more than enough for the youngsters to plunk their butts down in their seats.

“What is it, John?” Derek demanded to know.

“Do you guys care about Stiles? Do you care at all? Do you even remember him?” His honest question earned him a few frowns and some uncomfortable squirming. He chuckled joylessly. “That bad, huh?” he mumbled but then rose to his feet. “Never mind then. Let’s go home.”

“What about Stiles?” Who else if not Scott piped up first. The boy was too good really. Dense as a rock sometimes but gentle hearted. “Did something happen to Stiles?”

 

The Stilinski sighed heavily and flopped back down in the chair.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” he murmured… but then shrugged. “We’ve all assumed, especially me, that Stiles will return to Beacon Hills once he tires of the big city but that’s not going to happen. Stiles has no reason or desire to come back here and he has moved on with his life.”

“Who cares?” Jackson muttered but earned a warning growl from Derek as well as Scott. The sheriff shrugged.

“ _You_ may not but I do. Stiles is going to buy a house on the east coast, open his own veterinarian practice… and take care of his son.”

 

Well, **that** certainly sparked a reaction.

 

“Stiles has a son!?” Again, Scott being the only one voicing his care. “He never told me!”

“When was the last time you called him, Scott?”

“Well, I've been busy-”

“And he no longer wants to call or _wait_ for a call. But there's more than this pack’s poor contact with my son.” This time John made sure to look them all straight in the eyes to make sure they understood the importance of what he was about to say. “Stiles has been approached by a pack in the area and they want him to join and become their pack-medic.”

“Stiles’ a vet.”

“So it Dr Deaton.”

“But for a human to join…” Derek frowned. “Most packs are very old school and traditional... he’d have to be claimed and mated by someone from that pack to be accepted.”

“He’s fully aware of that and it doesn’t bother him particularly. He's been offered care and protection for him and his son and that’s probably what swayed him. Should he desire it he’ll be given the Bite as well.”

 

He sure had their undivided attention now, didn’t he?

 

“What’s more, he asked me to come live with him and his boy and it’s more than likely that I'll accept that offer. Getting a transfer isn’t a problem even if I get demoted, and I certainly won’t miss the long hours when I can spend time with my grandson. Actually, this is probably a good thing.” He rose to his feet again, went to the front door and opened it before shooting a last question over his shoulder. “But who am I kidding? You don’t care about Stiles, do you?” Then he left, closing the door softly behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many lovely lovely comments! 8D I had so much fun reading them so I just had to put up another chapter!  
> Guys, I'm trying to space these updates out a little but you're making it very hard T_T


	5. Chapter Five

Stiles being stressed was the understatement of the year. He hadn’t been this stressed since he had fought the good old psycho Alpha-pack-Darach-combo or the time when he tried explaining to his professors in college why he didn’t puke his guts out with the rest of his classmates the first time they got the honour of seeing a really bad hit-and-run horse. There had been blood and puss and shattered bone shafts sticking out just about everywhere out of the cadaver but he hadn’t as much as batted an eye at it. Yeah, fun times. Now though, he was **stressed**.

 

He had to pack an overnight bag for him and Zeke which included clean change of clothes and underwear, toothbrushes, Zeke's kiddy toothpaste, Spiderman-pyjama, his pillow and Aristotle, his stuffed green moose with he couldn’t sleep without and of course, both their costumes. He also had to make sure he had enough to eat for the trip out, drinks, he'd make sure to make enough so he could give some to the wolves as well, a toy or two, his wallet and phone and gods, **where** was his phone? He would also bring his med-bag because, you know, there was always someone that could need his help and what with kids and weres and werekids… yeah, so bringing that one. Hopefully he'd just have to lug it there and back without using it, one could always hope. He had also stuffed enough candy for a small army in his duffel along with their stuff. A gift certainly couldn’t hurt considering they were guests and would be housed and fed.

 

He knew that Chance, and probably Nathan because really, would show up any minute now and he was still in just a towel after his express-shower. Work had dragged on today and his careful planning had been shot to hell when a woman came in with a poodle that had swallowed a brooch… hence him rushing through the apartment between the bathroom, the kitchen and his bedroom. Of course, that’s when the doorbell rang, of course.

 

“Just a minute!” he hollered, not knowing why he bothered when he knew they'd hear him clearly anyhow. He threw the clothes on that he had lain out before hitting the shower, letting the towel fall and was still pulling a soft white henley over his head when he pulled the door open… and the blood froze in his veins. Whiskey brown eyes widened.

“Derek.” he pressed out. Swallowing hard he forced his furiously beating heart to come down from the heart-attack zone. “What are you doing here?”

“Can we come in?”

 

Stiles was just about to answer with a ringing ‘hell no’ when Jackson simply shoved him aside and entered, the door slamming against the wall. He snorted loudly.

“What a dingy place you have here, Stilinski.”

“And here I was trying _so_ hard to match my interior design to your taste. Obviously I succeeded.” the brunet snarked closing the door behind the rather unwelcome ‘visitors’.

“Long time no see, Stiles!” Erica grinned… only to frown when he barely spared her a glance. He didn’t bother greeting her either.

“What’s that stink!?”

“You should know, Jackson, it probably comes from your mouth.”

 

The Beta snarled but Stiles didn’t even flinch, he didn’t even raise an eyebrow. It was a long time since Jackson Whittemore had scared him. Instead he glanced at the Alpha while moving to the kitchen counter. They had hours in a car ahead of them, Zeke would get hungry sooner or later. Thankfully the child had hidden like he was supposed to when anybody else than Chance, Nathan or the woman from social services came.

“State your business and get out, Hale.”

The Alpha growled ominously.

 

“A little bird told me you're joining another pack, Stiles.”

“I'm joining **a** pack, **not** another. Get your grammar straight before you start threatening me.”

“By the way, I heard you have a kid!” Jackson piped up again. “I didn’t think you'd ever get a woman drunk enough to let you fuck her let alone carry your kid.” He laughed at his own words.

“At least I _have_ a child. Has Lydia come to her senses about you yet? She's such a waste on a jock like you.”

“Lydia has nothing to do with this, ya little turd!”

“Charming.” The Stilinski turned to the higher ranked wolf with a sigh. “If you want, I'll neuter that one for free. His stupidity shouldn’t allow him to breed.”

 

Stiles coughed when he was suddenly slammed against the fridge by the furious Beta snarling in his face.

“Why don’t I break a few of your bones and we'll see what-”

What happened next went by so fast no one was entirely sure about the actual details. One moment Jackson was pressing on Stiles’ windpipe, the next he snarled to the side and the third he yelped as they all froze at the sound of a gunshot. Jackson had been shot in the thigh.

 

“Move away from my son or I'll put the next one in your head.” Stiles’ voice was positively glacial and his hand was steady as a rock as he pointed the gun at the Beta’s head.

“You don’t have the guts, Stilinski!”

“I shot you once.” He calmly cocked the gun. “As **non-pack** I have absolutely nothing against putting a second bullet between your eyes and trust me, your death won’t keep me up at night crying.”

“Jackson.” Erica said unsurely. She was wolfed out but not moving. “You’re not healing.”

 

Indeed, the bleeding wound wouldn’t close and it was obvious that it tried… meaning the bullet was made of silver.

“Jackson.” Derek said calmly, frighteningly so, as furious red eyes focused on the only human in the room… only to widen in shock when the small animal that had attacked the wolf hurried towards the Stilinski the second he was released… and turned into a small boy.

 

Stiles wrapped his free arm around the child, holding on tightly even as he sank down to the floor never once taking his eyes off the Beta… or the gun. Zeke sobbed against his side, clinging to him like a drowning man at sea… or like a petrified cat.

“You **shot** Jackson!” Erica whispered, still frozen to the spot, staring wildly at the two on the floor. “You actually **shot** him!”

“Hale, tell your rabid Beta to drag his ass to the other side of the room or I _will_ pull the trigger and I think we all know I'm my father’s son and a damn good shot.”

“You don’t give me orders.” the Hale growled.

“You’re in **my** apartment, **against my fucking will** , threatening and injuring me and my son. As a human being _that_ gives me the right to give you orders. You should know the legal babble, _Deputy Hale._ ” Glacial brown eyes met furious red. “Besides, you're also a bunch of _uninvited_ werewolves and it goes against the _Code_ threatening and harming humans, especially in their own home. I should know, I'm the one who translated the Beastiary. Now tell him to back off else you'll return to Beacon Hills one Beta poorer.”

 

A low snarl later Erica helped her fellow pack-mate to the other side of the room and propped him up against the wall, only then did Stiles carefully put the gun on the floor and pulled Zeke into his arms, murmuring soothing nonsense in his ear. “Why are you even here, Hale?” he asked lowly once the child had calmed down just a little. “To insult me, threaten me, hurt me? If that’s the case, mission accomplished.”

“I came to bring you home.”

It earned him a snort.

“Taking the last 10 minutes into account I think it’s safe to say that that’s not going to happen. Besides, this is home now.”

“So you're going to join another pack, just like that?” Derek's voice was dangerously low but the brunet looked him straight in the eyes when he answered.

“Why not? I was never part of yours.” His calm reply was like a slap in the Hale’s face and he would’ve answered but someone rang the doorbell. A very calm voice sounded from the outside.

“Dr Stilinski?”

Still not taking his eyes off the Alpha Stiles called out.

“Come in, Chance. It’s open.”

 

The door opened and closed behind the two additions to this ridiculous scenario, glowing eyes taking in everything from the hole in the wall from the door handle to the sniffling child, the gun and the shot Beta.

“We heard the shot from blocks away.” the other Alpha said calmly. “And someone called the police.” Red glowing eyes met equally glowing red. “And you're the mystery Alpha I presume? What are your intentions?”

“I intend to bring Stiles home, I have no interest in your pack or your territory.” Derek growled… earning a nod. He wasn’t lying.

 

“Dr Stilinski doesn’t seem interested though so I’d say you came in vain.”

“He’s pack.”

They all turned to the human on the floor when he suddenly laughed out loud… and Stiles **was** laughing.

“Me? Pack?” he pressed out, slowly getting to his feet. “That’s not how **I** remember it. I remember the entire pack, **your** pack, unanimously letting me know that I, in fact, **wasn’t** pack, and that the only reason I was ever ‘allowed to tag along’ was because **you** used **me** to make Scott join you. I also recall handing over every magic book and tome I had in my house along with 3 eight-inch thick binders and a memory stick that were the result of my actual Adderall-addiction, and the entire translation of the Beastiary. I moved to the other side of the fucking continent so I wouldn’t have to see you again so tell me, _how the fuck am I PACK!?_ ” He was breathing hard now but he was also furious and had years of anger, frustration and plain old whys to steam out. “You never spoke _with_ me, Hale,” He couldn’t bring himself to say the wolf’s first name. “-you spoke _to_ me. ‘Look what you did, Stiles’, ‘you caused us so much fucking problems _again_ , Stiles’, ‘do as I say, Stiles’, ‘that’s plain stupid, Stiles’ or how about ‘ ** _shut up, Stiles_** ’, and my personal favourite, ‘I'll rip your throat out with my _teeth_ , _Stiles_!’. Half of my freaking anxiety-issues stem directly from having ever met you so excuse me if I laugh at your pathetic ‘he's pack’.”

 

“And what reason do you have to join **their** pack, huh?” Derek so dearly wanted to wolf out, to push the stubborn human against the wall and snarl at him that he belonged to _Derek_ and was Derek's _only_ but doing that would be challenging the other Alpha, something he had no interest in.

 

Gods, he had waited so **long** for Stiles to come home, to return to Beacon Hills so Derek could confess to him, tell him how much he loved him and make him his… imagine his reaction when he suddenly learned  that Stiles had no intentions of coming back… and that he didn’t care if he was claimed by someone else.

The human snorted at his question.

“Oh, I don’t know, respect? People who ask how I _feel_ instead of whining over _why_ I'm bleeding all over the floor or that I _am_ bleeding? The prospect of a loving home and a family? No supernatural bullshit? Safety? Affection? I can keep stacking reasons here.”

“Open the door, it’s the police!”

 

Stiles rolled his eyes at the pounding on the door. “Awesome, just fucking awesome.” He carefully hid away the gun in the hidden compartment where he'd taken it, turned to the wolves and scowled. “Sit and pretend to chat or something while we hide the stains on the floor. Erica, grab that blanket over there and cover Jackson's leg.” As the others hesitantly moved he went to answer the door just as the police raised his hand to pound again. “Officer?” he asked innocently. “What can I do for you?”

“We got a call about gunfire from this apartment.” the man said calmly. “May we come in, sir?”

“Yes, of course!” Stiles prayed to any and all gods out there that the wolves didn’t look too constipated as the policemen stepped past him to look inside the apartment. There was no blood on the floor, at least none he could see, and the two Alphas sat on either end of the couch, _lounging_ for all he could tell.

 

Chance flicked between TV channels, looking bored, Derek, watched silently while Erica and Jackson ‘cuddled’ on the floor under the blanket. Nathan and Zeke stood in the kitchen finishing the sandwiches the Stilinski had forgotten about before. Everybody blinked at the two officers.

“Something wrong, sir?” Chance asked as innocently as Stiles had before.

“Someone reported hearing gunfire from this apartment.”

The Alpha winced convincingly.

“TV.” he explained airily. “I'm afraid the volume was quite loud when I turned it on, sir. I apologize if we've caused you trouble.”

Having checked all the rooms quickly the men finally nodded. “No worries, just keep it down. Halloween brings out monsters in people.”

“Of course. Again, my apologies.”

 

Once the door finally closed behind the two men the Stilinski sagged against it with a shaky sigh. “Too close for comfort.” he muttered. “Way too close for comfort.”

“We should go.” Nathan said lowly, putting the bag of sandwiches in Zeke's small backpack. The towel on his shoulder was red when he threw it in the sink. “We don’t want to get stuck in traffic.”

“Yeah, let’s get going.” the brunet muttered but made no attempts at getting up. His legs were still a bit weak.

 

“Where are you going?”

“We’ve been invited to Chance’s pack for the weekend, to go trick or treating.”

“But you're coming back?”

The Stilinski rolled his eyes at the stupid question as he finally forced himself to his feet.

“Obviously. I have a job to go back to and Zeke has school on Monday.”

“We’ll wait until you come back.” the Hale mumbled, silently exasperated over the fact that he was stuck in a big city over the weekend with his strongest, albeit most immature, Betas. But he'd wait because Stiles was **his** and dammit if he wouldn’t make him see reason sooner or later! A small part of him though admitted that the accusations against him **were** true… and they were all really bad. But he'd work through it… as soon as he got Stiles alone for 5 fucking minutes so he could explain!

“Actually, why don’t you, and your Betas of course, come celebrate Halloween with us… Mr Hale?”

 

Derek wasn’t the only one who raised an eyebrow at the other Alpha.

Chance only chuckled though. “Dr Stilinski comes from Beacon Hills, the same Beacon Hills that is the home and territory to the large and powerful Hale-pack. You should be proud of Dr Stilinski, Mr Hale, he wouldn’t say a word about you, even when pushed on the subject. My offer is honest though, come celebrate with us.” He met the other’s eyes, letting red bleed into his. “You’re a strong Alpha and we could both benefit from being allies, don’t you think? Me inviting you makes for an excellent peaceful alliance, or at least the start of one.”

“Derek, I'm fucking bleeding here!”

 

Ignoring Jackson Derek met Chance’s gaze, letting his own flash red… once. Then he nodded.

“We’re in your territory, uninvited, and you’ve shown us nothing but kindness. I accept your offer… Mr Neilson.”

Chance chuckled lowly and held out a hand which was taken and shaken firmly.

“As long as you're aware I have all intentions to make Dr Stilinski stay. Right… Nathan?”

The Beta was not happy but he nodded instead of growling.

 

“Dammit! Bleeding here!” the Whittemore snarled. “Fucking _bleeding_ here!”

“Yeah, and you're staining my carpet and floor.”

The wolves turned to the huffing Stilinski… who blinked at them questioningly. Then he blinked again. “What?”

“Won’t you take it out?” Chance asked carefully.

“Why should I? He threatened to break my bones! **And** he nearly killed Zeke! He can dig it out himself.”

“You really would’ve killed Jackson?” Erica pressed out, earning a shrug.

“He’s been giving me reasons since high school. I would’ve pulled that trigger without batting an eye.” He eyed the Beta calmly. “Be happy there's no wolfsbane in it. That bullet is designed to hurt, not to kill.”

“You’re one sick son of a bitch, Stilinski!”

“Insulting my dead mother won’t help you, you know? Ask your **pack** to dig it out or do it yourself, asshat.”

“We can’t touch silver, you know that, Stiles!” the only woman there growled.

“Tough luck. Zeke, go pee and then were leaving. Chop chop.”

The boy disappeared down the hall immediately.

 

“Dr Stilinski, he probably won’t survive the journey.”

“Do you want him to?”

“Bringing home an Alpha and his dead Beta won’t make this weekend particularly enjoyable, Dr Stilinski.” the Neilson mused. “Makes for a lot of tension, don’t you think?”

Stiles stubbornly refused to admit the logic in that… but the pompous bastard **was** bleeding all over his carpet and floor.

“You’re cleaning up your own blood, Jackson.” he finally sighed, opening his med-bag to grab a pair of latex gloves. “That’s the deal or I'll leave you here.”

“You fucking-”

“Jackson.” One word from Derek was enough but the Beta grumbled under his breath while nodding.

“Yeah, yeah, just take it out, Stilinski.”

“Don’t be such a baby, Jackson. I've dug bullets out of children who whined less than you.” He never saw how one Alpha snapped to look at the other. Chance shook his head, mouthing a tired ‘later’. That appeased Derek… for now. “I need some muscle here. Hale, you and Erica hold down his arms and chest. Chance, Nathan, can you please hold his legs? I don’t fancy getting kicked by a werewolf. For the record, Jackson, I will put zero effort into making this painless for you.”

“You fu-mmph!”

“You’re a very rude man.” Zeke hissed, half shifted, from where he stood by the Whittemore’s head. “Daddy is helping you, you should be grateful.” He had, very effectively, silenced the werewolf… by shoving a pair of rolled up socks in Jackson's mouth. No one laughed where they were perched… but there certainly were a few smiles and grins hinted.

 

Stiles chuckled out loud, put the gloves on, grabbed a tong… and without further ado shoved it inside the wound once he had felt around for the bullet with a finger. He hummed while working, ignoring muffled screams and whines, cleaned the wound with rubbing alcohol once the bullet was out, taking perverted pleasure in the sounds spilling out around the socks and stitched Jackson up not bothering to be neat seeing as it was a waste of effort. “I'll have to sterilize my instruments again.” he sighed as he moved away from his ‘patient’ and pulled the bloody gloves off.

 

“Clean up, Jackson.”

“Derek, you can’t be serious!” Go figure the brat tried to get out of it the second he was in the clear.

“You’re humiliating your Alpha by showing terrible disobedience and indiscipline.” Nathan growled dangerously lowly. “You can obey or be made an example of.”

“You’re not my Alpha!”

“Jackson, clean up your mess or I'll rip you apart myself.” the Hale snarled, humiliated. “You’ve been fighting me every step of the way and letting you experience **real** discipline sounds more than great to me right now.”

“Derek-”

Jackson whined, outright whined when the next loud snarl was accompanied by flashing fangs too close to his jugular and razor sharp claws digging in into his thigh, right above the bullet wound.

 

Stiles obviously stayed out of pack-dynamics. He wanted no part of it, he wanted his floor cleaned. Instead he swooped Zeke up when the boy came padding up to him, smiling unsurely. “Here’s my hero!” He eyed the cat suspiciously. “You really are Batman, aren’t you? Your name is not Zeke Stilinski, its Bruce Wayne!”

Zeke giggled happily, denying theatrical whispers spilling from his daddy’s mouth while a pale hand wiggled a pair of small boots onto small feet.

 

A few minutes later a hushed, and trembling, Jackson was finished and they all left the apartment, more than an hour late.

“Stiles, are you riding with us?”

“I don’t think so, Sourwolf.” the Stilinski muttered not knowing what hearing the old nickname did to the Hale. “I'm riding with Chance and Nathan like I'm supposed to because they have a bigger car _and_ a car safety seat.” But then he stopped and turned to face the wolf. “Give me your phone.”

Derek did as told without a word. A minute later he got it back. “My number, my new one.” Stiles muttered. “Call if you lose us in traffic.”

With that said he jumped into the back of Chance’s car, strapped Zeke in and off they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to hold on to this until Monday, I really really tried 8[ It’s impossible *bawls*  
> And wow… you guys really like Nathan, don’t you? And why do some of you think he's not interested in Stiles romantically? XD Did I swing and miss that bad? Also, some of your wonderful comments made me panic because this story is already finished and you’ve brought up stuff that I hadn’t thought of at all XD *rips hair* What do I do!?  
> mistersilver gave me a wonderful picture of their head-canon Nathan, what does your look like?


	6. Chapter Six

“I can’t believe he shot me.” Jackson muttered sourly from the backseat of the rental car after about an hour of silent driving. No one was stupid enough to challenge Erica when she had called shotgun.

“He would’ve shot you again too, he didn’t lie when he said that.” Derek replied lowly. “You sure gave him reason to pull the trigger though.” His voice hardened. “I will accept nothing less than absolute obedience from both of you from now on, you hear me? You have already humiliated me in front of Neilson, should that repeat itself I'll go back home with Stiles and the kid alone. Disobedient Betas are the sign of a weak Alpha.” He let his eyes flash red in the rear-view mirror for good measure. “The Neilson-pack is as strong and powerful as the Hales once were, they're respected, have strict discipline and razor sharp hierarchy. As visiting Betas you two are on the very bottom of that pecking order. Don’t do anything stupid because I have literally no authority here.”

“Is it even safe for us to go there?”

Derek shrugged at the question.

“As safe as it gets for an Alpha and two mere Betas to visit a pack with over a hundred members.”

“100!?”

“A 100 **adults**.”

 

Erica looked out the window, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth while thinking. A minute later she spoke up again.

“He seems… happy, doesn’t he?” Neither of the males had to ask who she was referring to but she continued anyways. “I've missed him **and** his babbling. I always expected him to come running back after what we did back then, come begging to join us or even get the Bite, but I never thought he'd go so far as to join another pack.” she said softly. “ **Or** adopt an orphaned werecat. I certainly didn’t see _that_ one coming.”

“He hasn’t joined them yet.” the higher ranked wolf sighed tiredly. His head was spinning with thoughts and emotions and stress, gods, he didn’t even know where to start to sort it all out. “We still have time to convince him to come home.”

 

“What does he have to return to though? Other than his dad I mean?” Jackson murmured just as softly. “Scott? Sure, Scott is a good guy but he's not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed and he does have the attention span of a hamster when Allison is around, no offense to your Second, man. As far as I know they haven’t even spoken for almost a year now and they used to be attached at the hip. **I** wouldn’t return to that and Stiles is a smart guy, he wouldn’t either.” He swallowed loudly. “What do we have to offer really? If Stiles moves then the sheriff will go with him, there won’t be much left.”

“We can offer the truth, after that we'll figure something out.” the Hale murmured, glancing in the mirror again. “If you truly respect him as much as your scent indicates right now then you’ve got a lot of apologizing to do.”

“Yeah, I know.” Jackson sighed… resolutely ignoring the grin from the blonde. Another minute passed in silence. “He sure changed, didn’t he? He used to be this nerdy bench warmer who couldn’t shut up in any situation, now he's a badass single father who shoots high school-friends without thinking twice about it. I didn’t even know he knew how to handle a gun let alone owning one!”

 

“He grew up just like us.” Erica smiled a little. “Well, maybe not **just** like us.” she corrected on an afterthought. “ **He** grew up, **we** just got older.”

“That’s certainly a truth if I've ever heard one.” the Alpha snorted. “Sometimes I still wonder if my pack consists solely of teenagers”

“Hey, not fair!”

 

They laughed together for a few minutes, truly enjoying the comfortable atmosphere in the car. Another few minutes passed.

“Seriously though, Derek.” the Whittemore said softly. “We won’t disappoint you again. We may not have kids and stuff like Stiles but we've come a long way from where we started.”

Derek smiled a very rare warm smile and nodded. The rest of the journey continued in comfortable silence.

 

-

 

“Nananananananana BATMAN!”

“He slept in the car.” Stiles explained when they finally reached their destination and an eager boy bounced out of the vehicle the second the seatbelt was off and the door opened. The three Hale-wolves  blinked at him as he ran in circles with a small blanky for a cape before finding a pile of leaves and abruptly belly flopping into it and disappearing, leaving only a hint of yellow from the blanket. “Let’s just say that he charged his batteries and is ready to run.” There was obvious fondness in his tone as he watched the child.

“Speaking of running.” Derek sidled up to the other Alpha as they grabbed bags from the trunk. “There's a full moon tonight, is it safe for an unmated human and a werecat-child?”

“No need to worry, Mr Hale. Everybody who can be considered a potential threat to anybody will be locked away safely with responsible and calm adults. The youngest, as you know, don’t have aggressive instincts yet and are allowed to play and run… under supervision of course.”

“If another Alpha being here causes any problems I can stay wherever you wish me to sleep, Mr Neilson.” the younger of the two replied softly. “Whatever is easiest for you.”

 

“That’s very kind of you to offer but it won’t be necessary.” Chance smiled… just as Melody came out on the porch. She sniffed the air, looking worried when she spotted the other pack. “Melody, this is Mr Hale, Alpha of the Hales in California, I've invited him and his two Betas to celebrate Halloween with us. Mr Hale, this is Melody, my mate.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Mrs Neilson.” Derek greeted lowly, keeping his voice warm. “I apologize for causing trouble, coming here unannounced.”

She eyed him warily but after a nod from her mate she offered a little smile.

“Friends and allies are always welcome, Mr Hale. Please come on in.”

“Just Derek is fine, ma’am. These are two of my Betas, Erica and Jackson.”

“Are-… are you bleeding, Mr Jackson? I smell blood on you.”

“Not anymore, Mrs Neilson, but thank you for your concern. And Jackson is my first name.”

“May I ask what happened?”

“Stiles shot me in the leg with a silver bullet… ma’am.” he added after a look from Derek.

 

At first she only blinked at him… then she laughed out loud.

“Really? I always knew he'd snap eventually but I kind of always assumed he'd put that bullet in someone else's leg.” She offered a sheepish looking Nathan a pointed glance. “Well, do please come in. There's plenty of food and I'll prepare the guestrooms for you in a jiffy. Stiles, catch that batboy of yours and let’s eat!”

 

“I'm trying!” But he was laughing along with the child as they ran through piles of yellow, red and orange. She smiled at them fondly, placing a hand on her swollen belly. This time her pointed glance was aimed in another direction when she spoke.

“His mate will be one of the luckiest on the planet once they have him in their grasp… assuming they have what it takes to earn his trust and heart.” With that said she went inside… leaving a staring Alpha on her porch.

 

-

 

Melody certainly hadn’t lied when she said there'd be plenty of food. The kitchen was so loaded with it there wasn’t space enough and the large dining room table had to step in as makeshift buffet table. Chance’s family was large and welcoming, once they were absolutely positive the visiting pack had nothing but good intentions that is, and soon enough they were just another addition to the party.

 

People were sitting where they could fit, in some places regardless, in each other’s laps and on the floor, with plates in their hands, laps and armrests, chatting, laughing and enjoying themselves… and it tore Derek apart with longing. He could still remember times like these, times he had spent with his own family, the memories as clear and crisp as if it was only yesterday and not more than a decade since he lost them. He had tried talking to Stiles but Stiles was always busy with someone else, talking to someone else, helping out anyway he could, laughing, smiling… only to glare whenever the Hale came too close. He refused to talk to him, not now when there were children around, not tonight when Zeke was having such a great time with the other children, just… not now. Derek had still tried but there had always been that blasted Beta around and where Derek hadn’t been allowed within 10 feet of the Stilinski, Nathan had taken perverted pleasure in tormenting him by aiming for Stiles’ neckline whenever the brunet wasn’t paying attention or fast enough to dodge it. It had the Alpha’s wolf snarling under his skin, wanting to come out and show him who he was baiting for a fight. So he had left Stiles alone, for now, and tried to enjoy the party… only he couldn’t. He politely excused himself from the conversation he had barely been a part of and virtually fled out of the house so he could get some fresh air, air that didn’t smell like food and family and _belonging._

 

“Have we wronged you, Mr Hale?” Chance asked lowly, approaching the younger man perched on the rental’s bonnet.

Derek shook his head while releasing a heavy sigh.

“Nothing of the sort.” he murmured just as lowly. “I apologize for giving that impression, Mr Neilson.”

“Then why are you out here instead of in there? If I may ask?”

“What do you know of the Hales, Mr Neilson?”

 

The other Alpha looked confused then but stepped closer when the other made room on the bonnet.

“The Hales are powerful and strong, an old and highly respected pack.” Chance replied unsurely. “A large pack who keeps to themselves, follow the Code and protect the humans living in their territory.”

“That was true a long time ago.” Derek mumbled. “I-… I was young and naïve back then and I was used. Hunters locked my entire family in the house and set it on fire.” He winced at the memories. “My sisters and uncle survived but he lost his mind and one of them died not long after, at his hands. My pack now is small but we're strong and although my uncle is still a bit of a dark horse he's better and works with us. Well, most of the times. And then my younger sister, which we had always assumed died in the fire, showed up and let’s just say it’s a long and very complicated story.” The Hale swallowed hard. “Being in there reminded me of old times, before things went so horribly wrong.”

 

“I'm so sorry for your loss.” the older man said softly. “I admire your strength for surviving and making it through… and for being able to start over. You see, I came very close to losing my family not too long ago as well.” He glanced at the younger man before turning blue eyes forward, towards the view of the surrounding forest. “Some of us, me included, have business in the city and I was on my way back to my car when I picked up the scent of a wounded were.”

“Zeke?”

“Correct. I followed the trace figuring I had to do a mercy kill when I found him yowling behind a veterinarian clinic. I was just about to end his misery… when Dr Stilinski came out. In no time he had convinced the boy to trust him, brought him into the clinic and patched him up. He knew all along what the boy was because he kept talking about what he was doing and why, like to a person or a scared child.” Chance sighed deeply. “Then he took the boy home, cared for him and once fully healed he released him like he had promised to. But Zeke came back, he always waited for Dr Stilinski to come out and before my very eyes they became a family. Dr Stilinski went to social services and since the boy had no records he gave him his own name. Werecat or not, that boy is his son, he didn’t care about anything else but what was best for Zeke. That’s not exactly usual in a human aware of our sort.”

“There’s nothing normal about Stiles. He hid a murder-suspect in his room when his father is the county sheriff. He held me up in a pool for 2 hours so I wouldn’t drown, despite being scared shitless of me back then.”

The two Alphas chuckled lowly, both fully aware of the Stilinski's rather remarkable ability to ignore potential danger. But then Chance sighed again.

 

“Then we were attacked by rogue Hunters.” he continued. “I wasn’t even here, I was in the city when Melody called… telling me our only doctor had been killed.” He shrugged. “I reacted on instinct and turned to the first source I could think of.”

“Stiles.”

The Neilson nodded, running a hand through his sunny tresses.

“I went to his apartment, grabbed him and broke every traffic law on my way here… and yet he didn’t hesitate to help out. He grabbed his bag and spent the next 12 or so hours digging silver bullets and arrowheads out of my pack without complaining once. He asked for supplies like water, towels, gauze and bandages… and food for his son. He wasn’t scared of us… and yet he wouldn’t say a single word about the pack from his past.” Light blue eyes met hazel green. “I have every intention of making him stay because I'll need that time to make it up to him for saving my family, every single person he helped that night survived.”

“As long as you're aware of that I'll do my very best to bring him back home to his friends and family, Mr Neilson.”

They eyed each other… and nodded companionably.

 

Both of them turned to the house when they heard a door open followed by a,

“Nananananananana BATMAN!”

“Oy! Batman, let me get into my costume before you're off saving Gotham City!”

“Nananananananana BATMAN!”

“Zeke!”

 

“Looks like it’s time to entertain the children.” Chance mused. “Do you wish to join us, Mr Hale?”

“I have no costume.”

“That can easily be arranged.”

“I was afraid you'd say that.” Derek muttered, ignoring the shit-eating grin from the other wolf.

 

They returned back inside and this time Derek could actually enjoy the atmosphere rather than suffer from it. His Betas were enjoying themselves royally though and he was happy for them, they had never really had celebrations like this in Beacon Hills, not since the fire. He actually grinned when he saw Stiles, with a wildly giggling Zeke firmly tucked under his arm, talking to Melody about candy and candy baskets since apparently, he had forgotten the latter. She only smiled though, saying she'd find something suitable.

 

“Can we go now.” a young Tin Woodman whined next to a curiously blinking princess. She was eyeing Derek like she wasn’t quite sure how to approach him… not that it stopped her, or the rest of the little ones from staring. Much.

 

“Yes, yes, just a minute, I'm coming.” Chance excused himself from the Hale, gathered up his group of action figures, fairy tale creatures and animals, and ushered them all out the door followed by the rest of the loudly chatting family. Left behind was a one increasingly whining Batman, a heavily pregnant woman, a Beta… and a little girl. Stiles was squatting in front of the child smiling softly, a smile that had never been directed at Derek.

“Don’t worry, Lucy.”  He said lowly. “I'll just give you a quick check-up since you’ve been weak so long after the poisoning, and then well go trick or treating too.”

“Daddy?” Zeke sniffled, suddenly on the verge of tears. “Won’t you go with me? We were gonna go together!”

 

Stiles pulled the boy into his arms and held him tightly, peppering him with loud kisses to pudgy cheeks.

“Of course we are! This will only take a few minutes, okay? Why don’t you go with Sourwolf over there and when I'm finished we’ll catch up to you, okay?”

 

Derek felt like all air had left him in a punch when the boy glanced between his father and the Hale… before walking up to the wolf and carefully slipping his hand into a much larger one. He looked up expectantly.

“Are we going, Mr Sourwolf?”

The Stilinski sniggered at the responding twitch in the Hale’s face before waving them off with a stern, ‘you better keep him safe, Hale’.

 

-

 

To say that Derek felt misplaced or out of his element would be the understatement of the year. Of course he had celebrated Halloween before but then he had been a child himself, as secretly eager for sweets as his younger siblings and cousins. Now he found himself stupidly walking from door to door, trick or treating with a 6 year old werecat Batman, on territory that wasn’t his own… during the full moon. It was safe to say that he was very confused. It didn’t exactly help when the boy suddenly stopped and looked up at him, obviously thinking about something.

“What is it?”

“What is your name, Mr Sourwolf?”

“It’s Derek Hale, not Sourwolf.”

“Derek.” the boy frowned.

“Yes. Derek.”

“Daddy says your name sometimes, when he sleeps.” Zeke blushed, not knowing what a sucker punch he had delivered the Alpha. “I know he doesn’t want me to know but I can hear him sometimes, crying. He cries a lot, in his sleep.” Honest chocolate coloured eyes met wide stunned hazel green. “If you're Derek, maybe you can make it better?”

 

Gods, he hadn’t known he had hurt Stiles this bad! Derek swallowed hard sinking down to look the boy in the eyes.

“I'm trying.” he croaked. “I really want to make it better and stop the crying.”

The Batman-replica nodded seriously, apparently satisfied with the answer.

“Even if daddy leaves me here,” His voice trembled slightly. “I want him to be happy… with you.” This time he did sniffle… only to cling to leather clad shoulders when the wolf drew him in and held him close, nuzzling the small neck. Derek couldn’t even put a word on all the emotions welling up in him but he knew one thing clearly, this boy would become his as much as they both belonged to Stiles. Gently he rose to his feet, carrying a small sniffling Batman as he continued walking.

“I will bring him home and make him happy, Zeke.” he murmured, his voice thick. “And you're going with us, I'm bringing **you** home too.”

The only answer he got was the grip around his neck tightening.

 

-

 

When he finally found his Betas again both of them were deeply engrossed in conversation about everything from sports to monsters to college and makeup, the latter obviously by Erica, with wolves their own age. Both silenced though at the sight of their approaching Alpha, carrying a sleeping boy.

“I can see your tails wagging.” he growled lowly, not wanting to wake Zeke up. Jackson hid it better than Erica but even he looked eager to pounce on them.  “Did you go trick or treating too?” The Hale sighed noticing the baskets. “Vultures.”

“Hey, we were invited to!”

“To keep an eye on the kids I'm sure, not to steal their candy.”

“You have a basket too… sir.” the female Hale-Beta smiled sweetly.

“I'm carrying Batman, what's your excuse?”

“Eh…”

“Exactly.” The Alpha put the basket down on the picnic table before carefully handing over the sleeping child. “Here.” he muttered. “I need to find Neils-”

They all jerked at the sound of gunfire echoing through the forest… followed by howls.

In the distance, from the direction of the main house… they saw the light of fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No amount of comments is going to make me post the next chapter in more than at least a few days because I've put up 6 chapters in 4 days now and that's just bad! I made my decision, I tell you, and and you won’t change my mind, I won't! D8 *whimpers* Nope, nuh uh, I will not crumble! D8


	7. Chapter Seven

Once Melody had excused herself, she was going to stay at the only midwife in the pack now that she was due any day, Stiles and Nathan had brought Nathan's niece up to her room for a quick check-up. The bullet wound in her shoulder had healed just fine but the wolfsbane in it had rendered her weak since. Thankfully that’s all Stiles found though and she’d get stronger given enough time.

 

“I'll just go wash my hands, why don’t you help her change into that awesome pink wizard-costume, man?” the Stilinski smiled while closing his bag. Earning a nod he went down the hall to use the bathroom and he had just dried his hands… when he heard a loud snarl followed by a bang. His heart beat a hundred miles a minute as he desperately looked around, hearing voices. _‘Hunters.’_ his mind screamed at him. _‘They’re back!’_ Reacting without thinking he lifted the lid on the huge hamper and dove into it just as the door opened and heavy steps entered.

“Were those two the only ones?” a cold voice that sent chills down his spine rolled over him.

“Yeah.” another voice answered from the hall. “They’ll be dead soon enough though.”

“Monsters shouldn’t be allowed to exist let alone breed.”

“Do you want me to shoot the kid?”

“Nah, save your bullets.” The cold laughter that followed was sick, perverted. “Once we've sealed off this house were going huntin’!”

 

Stiles waited for as long as he dared before leaving his hiding spot, not leaving the bathroom until he heard the front door slam shut and being barricaded from the outside… as the terrifying sound of the fire alarm went off downstairs. He rushed back to the two wolves, seeing a bleeding Nathan on the floor and a wailing pink wizard next to him, obviously petrified.

“Shit!” he cursed loudly, reaching for his bag… when a bloody hand grabbed his wrist.

“Take her and run.” the Beta wheezed. “Save yourself and the child!”

“Fuck you, Nathan!” the Stilinski snarked only absentmindedly, and too late remembering to presence of small ears. “They obviously hadn’t counted on a human being here, let alone one used to digging for bullets so we’re going to use that to our advantage.”

“The house is on fire, Stiles!”

“I know so shut up and stop wasting time arguing!”

 

There was no time for gloves or alcohol or instruments so Stiles did what he had to, he went in barehanded ignoring Nathan's screams of pain and Lucy's loud crying. He felt it, right there, just a little-… “Sorry about this, man.” He pushed hard, half his hand disappearing inside the screaming wolf’s middle and **finally** caught the damn bullet. He knew that as long as the silver was gone the werewolf would heal, hopefully enough so he would survive until he could get treatment for the poisoning that was guaranteed to be in his system. “Great, great, Nathan, now we move.” he mumbled desperately while using the medical stapler in his bag. It wasn’t his prettiest work but it would have to suffice for now. “Lucy, darling, I need you to help me here. Can you do that, baby?” Stiles hefted the Beta up with a loud grunt, Nathan's arm over his shoulders as he held him around the back. “Can you take that bag? Drag it or push it if it’s too heavy, baby girl, but please take it!”

 

Lucy, precious child, still with tears running down her pale face, nodded and grabbed the handle and followed the older men.

“That’s a good girl, you're a champ, Lucy!”

They hurried out of the room and down the hall, coughing all three of them as they finally made it down the stairs. The fire was spreading rapidly and all exits were blocked. What did they do now!?

“Basement.” Nathan managed to press out. “Tunnel.”

 

Trying to avoid breathing too deeply Stiles dragged the wolf to the basement door and all but ripped it open. The Hunters certainly hadn’t been prepared for a human spark because the mountain ash barrier was easily broken with a desperate thought and a shuffling sneaker before they stepped into the darkness… and fell.

_‘At least the air is clearer’_ the Stilinski thought as he heard a sickening sound as they landed and realized it was the sound of bones breaking… his left arm breaking under the weight of two fully grown men. But he didn’t scream, he had no time for that. The panic and desperation of getting them all out pushed the pain to the back. For now.

 

“Where’s the tunnel, Nathan?” he pressed out, fighting to once more get them to their feet, this time with a useless arm. “ **Where** is the **tunnel**!?”

Nathan grunted, struggling to lift his head.

“Behind that shelf.” he mumbled. “Gotta… move that ladder.”

 

It wasn’t the first time Stiles mentally cursed the senses of werewolves and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Where he could barely see a hand in front of him the other two may as well have daylight.

“Lucy, baby, I need your help.” He talked faster, hearing the roar of the fire above them. They were running out of time! The Hunters must've used kerosene or something because there was no way a normal house fire spread this fast! Somewhere at the far back of his mind he wondered if this was what Derek's family had felt like when Kate Argent locked them in the basement and lit a match. _‘Oh gods! Derek! Zeke! Please be safe, please be safe, **please be safe!** ’_ “Honey, you'll have to be my eyes, I can’t see in darkness.” he tried as calmly as he could manage for her sake, given the circumstances he didn’t do half bad. “Can you show me the ladder?”

 

He nearly vomited from the pain when a small hand immediately grabbed his and pulled. He only had one hand free, his left. He batted it down though, grabbed for the ladder when lead to it and pushed at it with his shoulder. “Nathan, is there a door or a hatch or something? What am I looking for!?”

 

Somehow the Beta gathered the last of his strength, gripped what Stiles could only assume was some handle or something, and hauled a thick heavy metal-door up. The tunnel was small, the edge at their thighs and was low enough that they had to duck to get in but a cramped space is better than none.

 

Stiles pushed the wolf inside, turning to the girl. “Lucy, hurry!” The house was creaking ominously.

“Wait, the bag!” She grabbed it right as the ceiling collapsed and flames lit up the basement like fireworks, screwing up whatever night vision Stiles had just managed to get. Not caring about his arm he grabbed her and the bag, hauling them both inside the tunnel, climbed in after and slammed the heavy door shut.  Now they were surrounded by darkness, cold stale air… and earth. Stiles heard more than felt his already furiously beating heart speed up.

 

-

 

Derek thought he had entered his own private nightmare as he ran towards the fire and realized that yes, it was the same house where he had left Stiles. The house was already devoured by flames, glass shattering and wood groaning loudly before giving in and collapsing.

“STILES!” He roared the name, fear tainting his voice as he rushed forward only to slam against an invisible wall. Confused he looked down, staring at a thick line of mountain ash. Horrified hazel green eyes snapped up as another crash sounded from inside the inferno, one fire blending with another from years ago. He hadn’t been able to help then either, he hadn’t even been there… but now he'd keep trying even if it was already too late. He slammed himself against the barrier again and again and again, ignoring his aching body… and that’s when he heard it, cold laughter from behind him that reminded him of another laugh he had heard when he was but a boy.

 

“You had your mate in there?” the man sniggered. “I shot him and left him to bleed.” There was a crazy glint in the Hunter’s eyes, mad and twisted. “You’ll join him right now, **monster!** ”

 

Derek moved the second the other lifted his arm to shoot. He didn’t care if he got hurt, couldn’t have cared less about shifting on someone else's territory, all he could think about was ripping the Hunter apart and make him suffer like nothing else for killing Stiles, **his** Stiles. He didn’t notice the other two Hunters coming to help, didn’t hear the howl of Chance’s wolves, didn’t feel anything other than how claws and teeth sank into hot flesh over and over again.

 

Jackson stared in horror at his Alpha and he wasn’t the only one. Before him, standing over a bloody red mess that had once been a human being, was a beast larger and stronger than Derek's Alpha-form, more feral and gruesome… and many times more dangerous. There was no trace of Derek Hale in the glowing red eyes and if this was his wolf then Jackson was fucking lucky if he recognized his own Beta right now… because this was a monster from myths and legends, terrifying… and uncontrollable. Hollywood horrors had bupkis on this one.

 

“Is that-… Hale?” Chance breathed next to the other, staring in as much horror as the Whittemore.

“It used to be.” Jackson pressed out only to whimper when Derek, or what had once been him at least, roared out his fury, saliva and blood dripping from fangs larger than kitchen knives. Then he howled, loud and heart shattering at the full moon before taking off into the night. The Beta cursed out loud. “Fuck! He's going to hunt down every Hunter in the state!” He offered the silent Alpha but a glance before wolfing out and hurrying after the black shadow, silently praying he wouldn’t ever be the target of whatever insanity that had taken over his leader.

 

-

 

“I'm scared.”

“I know, Lucy, I'm sorry.” Stiles tried swallowing but his throat was dry despite him sweating copiously. “Come here, baby, come here.” He held out his good arm, pulling the little girl close to his side, mumbling soothing nonsense in a distinctly furry little ear. “I promise well get out of here, Nathan wouldn’t have shown us this tunnel if he hadn’t known it lead to safety.” He glanced down despite not seeing anything. The Beta was leaning against his chest, unconscious and had been so not long after the tunnel-door had slammed closed, separating them from the raging fire. He **was** alive but just barely. With a broken arm and too little space to carry the wolf Stiles had to find another way to get Nathan out with them. He hadn’t left him to die from a bullet, hadn’t left him to die in the flames and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let him die in some damn tunnel underground. So he had with Lucy's help unbuckled his belt, pulled it out from the loops and again with some help, buckled it around the wolf’s chest and under his arms. Stiles thanked any deity out there listening that he hadn’t outgrown his fondness for too big belts because even on the last hole it was a tight fit.

 

Now he got the workout of a couple of lifetimes as he used his back and legs to drag Nathan with him. His right hand had gone from sore to blisters to bleeding raw but he could care about that later. “I need you to be my eyes and ears, Lucy. Can you do that for me, honey?” his voice hoarse. “What do you see? What do you hear?”

 

Lucy sniffled a little but then nodded, determination filling innocent glowing yellow eyes.

“I see no door.” she mumbled. “It keeps on going.”

“Good, that’s good, sweetheart. What do you hear?”

“Nothing.” she replied after a minute. “Your heartbeat, uncle Nathan's too… but I can’t hear more.”

“Then we’ll have to continue down this tunnel until you hear or see something, okay, precious? I trust you, Lucy, you're awesome, okay?”

Having heard a low ‘yes, uncle Stiles’, the Stilinski wrapped bleeding fingers around the leather belt, drew a deep breath and pulled.

 

His stomach lurched every time his arm jostled, he felt like vomiting until there was nothing left but kept on battling it down. He needed the energy and the stench of pukes would hardly help them. So he pushed his ass backwards with his feet propped against the walls of the tunnel, braced and then pulled on the belt more times than he dared think about. No, instead of giving up he kept thinking about everything he had to fight for, Zeke, his boy, who just wanted to go trick or treating for the first time, who was so shy and attached and who deserved better than to lose his family twice. He thought about his dad who he hadn’t seen in more than a year and that would probably never get to meet Zeke because social services would take him away.

 

And he thought about Derek, gods he couldn’t stop thinking about  Derek, the astronomical asshole that had hurt him, wounded him so deeply years ago and that shattered his heart beyond repair, who had ruined him for everybody else just by thundering into his life when he least expected it. It had felt like a punch in the gut opening the door and seeing him again, Deputy Fucking Hale, with his intense hazel green eyes and that badassery air that always surrounded him. He had wanted to punch him in his perfect face and then kiss it better but would’ve probably gotten thrown across the room of he had done either.

 

A broken sob left the Stilinski as he pushed and pulled, his body working on its own without conscious effort from his buzzing mind. Just once he wanted to hear ‘I love you’ instead of ‘shut up, Stiles’ from the damn wolf. He wanted Derek to look at him as if he mattered rather than something he stepped in! He wanted to be wanted and needed!

 

He was so into his own miserable thoughts he barely caught his name being called loudly. He had no idea how long he had worked on autopilot either, it could be hours or days for all he knew… or cared.

“Uncle Stiles?” Lucy called again, lower this time. “I see something.”

“What do you see, baby?”

“A door, on the ceiling, I can hear the wind too.”

“Great! That’s great! I'm so proud of you, Lucy! You're a champ!” he pressed out while pushing himself harder, faster now to get them closer while ignoring the pain and the ache until a wall behind him stopped him.

Trembling he raised a hand and felt around until bloody fingertips whispered over a latch. It clearly hadn’t been used in a long time because it barely budged when he pulled at it.

 

“Lucy, my pretty wizard-assistant in pink, can you use those wonderful claws of yours on my shirt here, can you? That’s a good girl, now take that and wrap it around my hand hard, harder. That’s perfect, you're perfect, you're so good, Lucy.”

 

He grabbed the latch again, pulling harder, tugging to make it give until he finally gave up, slid down against the wall and kicked. The latch moved with a dull clanging sound seconds before the hatch opened to rain down dirt, leaves and moonlight over them. It lit up the world like the sun after so long in pitch-black darkness.

 

He groaned getting up on his feet, hauling up the bag that Lucy had pushed and pulled through the tunnel for him, then he bent down to lift up the girl. She scuttled up, immediately moving to hold onto the bag and turning it upright. The next problem however was Nathan. The wolf was taller than Stiles, more than a little heavier… and dead weight. And the edge of the escape hole reached the Stilinski to his chest. It might as well have been Mt Everest. Getting the Beta up would’ve been difficult under the best of circumstances… and these weren’t it what with Stiles’ broken arm. But that didn’t mean he quit fighting, oh no, Stiles Stilinski was a lot of things but a quitter he was not.

 

Again he pulled and pushed and dragged and cursed every child friendly profanity he could think of, not that he had thought of doing it before, until finally he had managed to get the larger man on his feet, leaning heavily against him. One loud grunt later he had hauled Nathan's shoulders up on the ground. Still with his own body in the way, hindering the wolf from tumbling down again and with the child holding on for all she was worth, Stiles continued struggling with the lifeless body until he deemed it safe enough to climb up himself and continue tugging on the belt. Only when Nathan was safely deposited on the forest floor did he once more move to the wide eyed girl.

 

“Lucy, darling, I need you to howl.” he said quickly while rummaging through his bag. He had started carrying wolfsbane and lighter around with him after that first sordid night of emergency surgeries. “Lucy?”

“But the Hunters-” she began only to be cut off.

“They’re long gone, sweetheart.” Stiles glanced down at his wristwatch. “We’ve been in that tunnel for 3 hours, there's no way they're still here.” _‘Or alive.’_ but he didn’t say that. Instead he gently cupped her cheek, looking into glowing eyes as he demanded his voice to come out more as a soothing murmur than a hoarse rasp. “If you howl the wolves will hear you, okay? They’ll come to investigate, to see what it is, and they’ll help us **and** your uncle, okay? So please, I beg of you, Lucy. Howl.”

 

As the first hesitant ‘arooo’ filled the small clearing, followed by a stronger, Stiles continued digging through the bag until he found what he was looking for. He ripped the package with the dried wolfsbane up with his teeth, fumbling with it while simply cutting newly healed wounds open with one of the scalpels from the bag, pouring its content over the wound, felt around for the lighter… and set Nathan's chest on fire. He prayed it wasn’t too late as he pulled back and tossed the empty package and lighter towards the bag, not bother to aim properly. As he listened to the steadily growing desperate howls from a werewolf-child, exhaustion finally washed over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate myself.


	8. Chapter Eight

Jackson in that moment was seriously reconsidering his life choices as he scrambled backwards over the forest floor. One moment he had been following his rabid Alpha through the woods at breakneck speed, watching how he found and killed one Hunter after another with terrifying efficiency, the next he felt the blood freeze in his veins as glowing red eyes turned towards him… and the werebeast snarled.

“Dammit, Derek!” the Whittemore pressed out, fighting every instinct in his body screaming at him to just fucking **run** because he knew way better than that. “Don’t you recognise your own Beta!?”

 

Apparently not because the other were stalked closer, growling loudly, obviously set on new prey… when the large furry head, covered in gruesome red, suddenly snapped up, listening and scenting the wind. Not far away a pup was desperately howling, calling for help. Again the Alpha took off and Jackson tore after, hoping against all odds that Derek wasn’t so far gone that he'd attack a helpless child.

 

They came to a small clearing where the foliage left a hole big enough to let the moonlight through… to illuminate the forms next to the crying girl. Her howling stopped abruptly when scared eyes stared at the much larger form… but the Alpha paid her no attention. It stared at the smaller male, sniffed, shifted from paw to paw… before letting out such a tortured sound it was physically painful to hear.

 

It had long dark lashes fluttering open, whiskey brown eyes struggling to focus… and then frowning slightly. Stiles swallowed hard, not sure if he had woken up in a nightmare or if he was still in one.

“D-Derek?” his voice sounding like 30 years of daily whiskey.

 

This time the Alpha didn’t lunge, he moved slowly, hesitantly, as if unsure whether this was sorcery or a joke or not. He came closer, carefully sniffing, constantly sniffing, only to whine lowly when an injured hand rose to gently stroke over his face, mindful of large fangs. “It’s okay, Sourwolf.” the Stilinski rasped. “You can calm down now, come back to me.”

 

At first the wolf refused, fought the change, but then slowly fur receded, bones shifted and claws and sharp teeth drew back, leaving only a trembling Derek Hale. Stiles pressed out a very small smile, his thumb stroking over a defined cheekbone as he let himself enjoy the feeling of stubble despite his raw fingers. “You’re fucking lucky I'm too exhausted to be scared right now because that, that’s the stuff real nightmares are made of, man.”

“Stiles…” It wasn’t more than a croak, hazel green still scared of believing.

“Yup, that’s me, the awesomeness that is Stiles Stilinski. At your service, dude.”

Derek didn’t reply to that, only sank down over the smaller man, inhaling his scent deeply from the crook of his neck, still trembling all over.

“Aww, what a sweet reunion of mates,” a low voice sneered from the edge of the clearing. “At least you'll die together.”

 

No one was really sure what happened after that, it was all a blur. A gun went off, someone snarled… someone screamed. Things went so fast Jackson wouldn’t have been able to tell what really happened if he so had to testify in a court of law. Still staring at the scene in front of him he managed to get out ‘somebody call an ambulance!’, then he turned around… and hurled.

 

-

 

“How is he doing?”

“Silent, worried. He's never been much of a talker and how would you been in his situation, Jackson?” Erica shrugged only to shush when the boy in her lap moved. Before her Alpha had taken off he had given her one order, _keep Puss safe_ , and she had, would, until Stiles or Derek took over. Stiles however was at the hospital and Derek… Derek was in a room in the house next door, not really reachable. He was perfectly fine physically but no one was really sure whether his mind had survived what had happened or not. Erica glanced at her fellow-Beta. “Tell me what happened.”

 

It earned her a heavy sigh… and an involuntary shudder.

“He shifted,” the Beta murmured. “-into something-… I- I didn’t know he could turn into what he did. He didn’t recognise me!” he burst. “He hunted them down and killed them like that was his reason for being and if it hadn’t been for that kid I would’ve been next!” Jackson swallowed hard. “As sick as it sounds, after having seen that I understand where Hunters come from.”

“That’s harsh.”

“You didn’t see him like I did.”

 

She could only nod to that. No, she hadn’t seen her Alpha shift or hunt, she had been busy with Zeke, and other children, herding them to safety, away from the approaching Hunters. Zeke in particular demanded attention. He had shifted from child to cat in the blink of an eye and the next second taken off after Derek and Jackson, sprinting through the dense underbrush forcing the shifted Beta to take chase. She had caught him but not without effort, and hurried back to the others, wary of Hunters while carrying him by the scruff of his neck. He had yowled distressfully the entire time, occasionally bursting with fight, hissing, spitting and clawing at her without success. Once in safety with the others he had simply given up and cried. It certainly had been quite a night for all of them.

 

“What about the Beta?” she asked instead, keeping her voice low, mindful of Zeke.

“He looked like shit when I saw him.”

“Still does but at least he's alive, thanks to Stiles.”

“Well, that’s good at least.” Jackson sighed, leaning his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. “That’s good.”

 

-

 

“How are you feeling, Mr Hale?” The voice was warm, soft, as the other Alpha entered the room silently. Unreadable hazel green eyes looked up to meet the other man’s eyes.

“I shifted in your territory, and I killed.” he mumbled. “I apologise.”

It startled a low laughter out of other man.

“Trust me, Mr Hale, that’s the last thing you have to apologise for given the circumstances. Out of the 30 Hunters that attacked us, you singlehandedly took down 12. That’s 12 Hunters that would’ve caused more harm to my family so if anything, I'm grateful.”

“I'm sorry, I don’t remember much of any of it.” Derek frowned slightly. “I remember the moon and the children in costumes…” He closed his eyes. “And a burning house…” The memory felt like an open non-healing wound, only bleeding more the more he thought about it and he just couldn’t made himself stop thinking about it. It was forever burned into his soul, the crushing loss he had felt then, knowing his one and only mate was in there, dead or dying.

 

“But I remember. “ Chance murmured softly. “For what you did for us, Mr Hale, you have a permanent ally in me and my pack. Always.”

“You lost some of that pack.”

“True, and I mourn them greatly… but I got to keep a lot more than I would have otherwise.”

“You saved Stiles.”

“And Stiles saved you.” The Neilson's smile grew softer. “It’s quite the bond you have between you. It’s unbreakable.”

“I'm not too sure about that. We hadn’t spoken for years when I came here.”

 

Chance snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Dr Stilinski wouldn’t have taken a bullet meant for you if he didn’t love you. He's a good man but remember that the bullet he put in your Beta was indeed intended for my brother.”

“The brother he saved from a burning building along with your daughter.” A black brow rose sarcastically. “A girl he has saved twice.”

“That still doesn’t make him a saint, merely a strong man who does what's right. If he loves you, who are you to question his judgement, Mr Hale?”

“The man that deliberately hurt him and pushed him away.”

“Well, that says more about you than him.” Then Chance sighed deeply, rubbing his hands over his face. “I had completely forgotten about that tunnel, you know? We used to play in it when we were small, Nathan and I, but then we were told not to and I forgot it was even there… but my brother remembered. I can’t believe he remembered it.”

 

Derek would’ve replied with consolation, a remark, anything, but he was cut off by the sound of a slamming car door and a slightly slurred ‘wha-whear is mah son?’.

Chance suddenly grinned. “Looks like our hero returned early from the hospital. Shall we greet him, Mr Hale?”

 

-

 

Stiles was a bit unsteady on his feet but not overly so considering how high he had been only 2 hours ago. Painkillers could do that to someone's balance, brain, inner ear, whatever. Painkillers also made the pain go away, or dull it if they weren’t strong enough for the former, and Stiles had gotten the good stuff. He couldn’t feel **anything**. He didn’t feel his broken arm, now in a proper cast and sling, he couldn’t feel his left shoulder from which bemused surgeons had plucked out a silver bullet, either. They had asked him about it when he woke up in the ICU and gotten a rather dry answer that a guy apparently couldn’t take a moonlit walk in the forest on Halloween without getting his perfectly human ass shot at. The fact that the police hadn’t been able to find the shooter, or anything else gory, didn’t surprise the Stilinski at all. Fact, he didn’t give a damn.

 

He had demanded to be discharged right then and there, had waved his rights around like a flag and when the doctors refused, he had agreed to stay at least another day or two so they could tend to his hand and shoulder. He had been pumped full with drugs before he left the hospital and the ride back had been a blissful adventure full of sparkling unicorns and giggly fairies running along outside the car. Now though only the glitter remained and Stiles had a slightly firmer, if albeit still shaky, grip on reality.

 

“Daddy!”

“Puss, my boy! My precious, precious boy! Oh, you're still Batman, I mean, oh my precious, precious Batman!” the older Stilinski garbled, going down on his knees to hug his son… only to mutter colourful animals when he realized he had both his arms in slings. He hadn’t noticed that until now but at least that would explain his troubles with getting dressed, eating, the seatbelt… “Wait, lemme get this- that’s better, claws are good. Come’ere, my wonderful Batman!” He hugged the boy awkwardly with one arm, still highly aware of his shoulder despite the glittery fog. Not that it stopped him from babbling, much. “I was so worried and I didn’t know where you were and if you were alright and then someone said you were but I was still so worried and now I can see for myself and you're okay and I love you so much and and… Zeke…”

“I love you too, daddy.” Zeke sniffled, clinging as best he could without jostling the broken arm too much. “Erica took care of me.”

“Good, that’s awesome, she's awesome.”

 

“Dr Stilinski, it’s good to see you're in high spirits.”

Slightly groggy eyes turned to the Alpha, smiling lopsidedly.

“I'm high more than in high spirits but likewise, Chance, it’s good to see you alive and kicking. Speaking of which, how's Nathan doing? Is he still with us?”

“He’s still recovering from his injuries, he’ll be as good as new before you know it. I thank you for saving my brother and daughter.”

“Thanking the wrong person here, dude. I'm not the one who knew about that tunnel.” Stiles grinned, again a bit lopsidedly. “All I did was drag his ass through it.”

“That’s not the story I heard.” the Neilson mumbled. He glanced at the Hale. “How about taking this inside?”

 

The other Alpha stared at the vet as if he didn’t know if he should flop down belly up and grovel or run away with his tail between his legs… or cry. It was obvious he wanted to touch, to smell and make sure the Stilinski was alright, he just didn’t know if he was allowed to.

 

“Just a minute.” Stiles said soberly, stepping up to the apprehensive wolf… and planted his fist square in Derek's face. “Ow, that’s gonna hurt later but **that’s** for freaking me out. Don’t think I don’t remember, beast-boy. And this,” He grabbed the shocked, and bleeding, man by a fistful of inky black hair, pulling until lips met lips surprisingly gently. “-is for coming back.” he murmured softly… before dropping the wolf like a hot potato. “Now we can go inside. I'm starving!”

 

As the two Stilinskis disappeared inside they left a group of slack jacked werewolves outside, staring as Derek carefully dabbed his fingers to his rapidly healing nose. He looked calm though, there wasn’t a trace of red eyes.

“He’s got no self-preservation instincts!” Chance hissed horrified. “No self-preservation instincts **at all!** ”

 

-

 

Later that night, after hours of talking and dinner and more talking, Derek excused himself from the company. He left his Betas to socialize with the Neilsons, many from the Halloween-party, and headed upstairs to the room he'd been given. However, as he passed another door in the hall he picked up the sound of fast heartbeats… and a broken whisper of his name.

 

He silently opened the door and slunk in without thinking, frowning as he saw the forms on the bed. Worried yellow eyes met his as he approached the bed, carefully sinking down on the very edge.

“It’s okay, Stiles.” he murmured softly. “I'm right here.” Hesitating just a bit he gently grasped the Stilinski's fingers, rubbing his thumb over the first knuckles while leeching pain.

 

The trembling died down, the crease on Stiles’ forehead smoothed out and he breathed out softly. Then he sighed, warm eyes fluttering open to look right into worried hazel green. His smile caught the Hale completely off guard.

“Hey… that’s the creeper I know. Window or door, Sourwolf?” he rasped.

“Door.” he answered before he could comprehend what he was going.

“I call that progress.” Stiles chuckled.

“You took a bullet for me.” Derek croaked. “I wouldn’t have died from a bullet!”

“Lizard brain.” came the low reply. “I handle silver better than you and I'm not sure I would’ve handled digging for bullets in you very well.” His voice cracked. “I reacted on instinct.”

 

They stared at each other, two hearts beating hard and fast… but in perfect sync.

 

Stiles nearly burst out in nervous laughter seeing the dance and twitches the wolf’s eyebrows engaged in. “Words, Derek, use your words!” he pressed out.

“I saw the house burning.” Derek finally managed to whisper. “The house I had left you in and then that Hunter said he had shot my mate. I lost it, Stiles, I lost my humanity.”

“And you got it back.”

“Dammit, I had just gotten you back and then you get shot right in front of my eyes! **Why** did you protect me!?”

“Because you were butt naked…” He held Derek's fingers tightly. “And because against better judgement I still love you. You fucking _hurt_ me and I still love you. I have no idea of why but I do. I'm not even sure you loved me at all but if you did you'll tell me what happened back then. Tell me what the hell happened.”

“I protected you.”

“Yeah, crap job of doing that, dude.”

 

“No, I kept you alive.” Derek closed his eyes, remembering that day like it was only yesterday. He remembered it so clearly, every detail, all the hurt he had caused. “The-there was a djinn of all fucking critters,” he sighed heavily. “A djinn that found sick pleasure in torturing anybody and everybody with as much as a hint of magic, until they died and he could take it. Witches, warlocks, **fae** , died like flies and you're a spark. So Deaton, Morrell and Lydia fled while they could after telling us how to find it and kill it and you-… you never _listened_ , Stiles. We couldn’t just tell you to go back to college with some bullshit reason because you wouldn’t have bought it, you were too sharp, always have been.” Derek drew a deep breath, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders with the truth. “You would’ve come back to help and ended up dead so we **had** to find a way to get you out safely… and keep you out.”

“And by that you threw me out of the pack and crushed my heart?”

 

“I had no choice. I would much rather hurt you and lose you than seeing you dead.”

“And Scott? And the others?”

“Don’t you think we tried thinking of other options? We didn’t know how long it would stay in Beacon Hills, we didn’t know where it was or who it was, only that it killed those related to magic and you’ve always refused to run. We needed you **out**.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me to come back and explain everything to me afterwards, Derek?” Stiles’ voice was low now, confused and… insecure. “Once you had killed that thing you could’ve told me to come back. Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know.” the wolf replied slowly. “Misguided effort to give you a normal life? To continue keeping you safe? I honestly don’t know anymore. I just know that it’s been hell ever since because you weren’t there, you're my anchor like anger and fury never were.”

 

“You suck.” Stiles muttered. “You suck balls.”

The bone-dry way he said it lured a low chuckle from the Alpha. “Yeah, I know. Sorry.”

“Kiss me and I'll think about it.”

“Gods!” The older man’s voice cracked as he leaned down to rest his forehead against his mate’s. “I love you, Stiles, I love you. Please never scare me like that again, I can’t handle it!” His lips whispered feather lightly over a fuller pair. “…don’t leave me again.”

“Kiss me every day for the rest of my life, tell me you fucking **love** me and you have a deal. Not saying you're off the hook though.”

 

So Derek did. He kissed him for everything he was worth, poured everything he had into it, savouring the taste and feel of Stiles like it was his last breath alive. Minutes, or was it hours, later he pulled back, but not entirely. He still needed to feel, to smell his mate from close enough to feel his body heat.

“Rest.” he rasped, only absentmindedly noticing how Zeke had curled up against his daddy, long since asleep. “You need the rest to heal.”

“Lay down with me, Sourwolf, I want you to.” Stiles eyed the wolf as he moved to toe his shoes off. “If I'm sleeping in my skivvies, so are you, mister.”

“Stiles-”

“I'm sick, I have the right to demand stuff. Besides, you're a living furnace and I'm cold.”

“Lie.”

“Okay, so maybe I just want to feel your body against mine without the damn leather. Come on, Derek, I can’t move my arms, what do you **think** is gonna happen?” the Stilinski whined. “ **And** my _son_ is right here, he's the perfect chaperone!”

 

Derek sighed but complied anyways, slipping his henley and jeans off only to very carefully slide in under the blanket instead. He couldn’t help the full body shudder as his body finally came in contact with his mate’s soft skin. Neither could he help the red bleeding into his eyes, his wolf restless, eager to claim. But he battled it down, there would be time for that later, when Stiles was fully healed… and back where he belonged, at home in Beacon Hills, with Derek.

 

So he wrapped himself around the younger man, a hand resting protectively over Zeke's furry back, nuzzled Stiles’ throat and with a deep breath he allowed himself to fall asleep.

 

-

 

Christmas that very same year…

 

-

 

“Dad, don’t stuff your face just because it’s Christmas!”

“You're forcing me to eat every shade of green the rest of the year, damn straight I'm eating real food while I have the chance!”

“I'm making you eat healthy food because of your cholesterol! I'm trying to help your heart, old man!” Stiles grumbled walking into the living room only to smile at the sight of Zeke sitting in Isaac’s lap watching Disney's _‘Oliver and Company’_ … again. Scott was sitting in the couch looking as excited as Jackson pretended not to be. Go figure that some never actually grew up.

 

Allison, Lydia, Cora and Erica were decorating the ridiculously large tree in a corner, Scott's mom and lately John’s girlfriend, fussed over some quiche or pie or something in the kitchen, slapping Peter’s hands away from what she didn’t want him to touch because it wasn’t done yet. Derek, having been out chopping wood for the huge fireplace came in looking like any picture out there with snow glittering in the black tresses and lashes, a barely there pink to his nose and cheeks. It should be illegal to look that good with such an ugly knitted scarf around your neck, courtesy of the sheriff’s neighbour who had apparently graced everybody with knitwear for presents. Stiles walked up to his mate, having placed a loud smacking kiss on Zeke's head in passing, and Isaac's too when the Beta whined pitifully, and caught his lips like the most natural thing in the world.

 

“Shower and then its dinner, Sourwolf.” he murmured. “We’re waiting for you.”

“Will do. Boyd, put these in the wood basket and stoke the fire, its dying.” Derek handed over the wood and was just about to head upstairs when he turned and frowned. “Someone’s coming.” he said lowly.

“No. Nononono **no**! **Not** on Christmas, dammit! I will **not** have my first Christmas back home ruined by-” He ripped the door open, not seeing how the wolves groaned lowly. After all these years Stiles still hadn’t learned that you always let someone who can actually heal open the door when unexpected visitors come around.

“-by the biggest champ in the world!”

They all snapped to the door when the Stilinski hurried out.

 

Stiles grinned as a happy Lucy rushed up to him, giggling as she threw herself at him and was caught easily. “My hero!”

Chance grinned too as he got out of the van and grabbed a baby car seat.

“Dr Stilinski! Merry Christmas!”

“Indeed! And who do we have here?” Stiles completely missed how the rest of his family came spilling out of the large beautifully renovated Hale-house as he looked down at the little boy trying to stuff his fist into his mouth. He succeeded… and abruptly wolfed out. “Oh gosh, so cute, so cute, I'm dying of cute. Gimme!”

“If you think Liam is cute,” Melody sniggered from the other side of the van. “, take a look at this one.” She leaned close when he came to coo at the other bundle of joy. “Guess what we named him.” she whispered, winking at him and he blinked at her questioningly. Then whiskey brown eyes widened.

“You didn’t!” he squeaked, again, all manly squeaks here, people. “How did-”

“We take our research very seriously where the safety of the family is involved.” Her smile widened. “But we call him ‘Stiles’.”

“Woman, I salute your genius!”

 

“Although you're certainly welcome,” Derek shook the Neilson's hand firmly. “, it’s slightly unexpected.” He frowned. “Is something wrong? More Hunters?”

“No, thing of the sort.” Chance waved the worry off. “Actually, I'm here on formal matters.”

“Ah, the pack alliance.”

“Eh, yeah… that.” For once the older Alpha looked slightly sheepish… as a teenaged boy practically pounced on the Hale, showing his neck while positively vibrating with energy.

Derek looked at him like he had never seen such a creature before and he wasn’t the only one. Stiles frowned while walking up to his mate, carefully handing the car seat back to the Neilson.

“What’s with the moral support?”

Out of the three rented people carriers people poured out, stretching and chatting lowly but mainly focusing on Derek with anticipation. It gave Derek the heebie-jeebies.

 

“Who’s the Alpha, nephew?” Peter knew already but asked anyways because why not? And the rest of the pack, save for Jackson and Erica probably didn’t know.

Ignoring the lowly whining teen in front of him the younger Alpha cleared his throat unsurely.

“Mr Neilson, this is my pack. The rude one is my uncle, Peter, the rest are my Betas, Boyd, Isaac and Scott. Erica and Jackson you’ve already met. The human members are Lydia, Danny, Mrs McCall, Scott's mother, sheriff Stilinski, Stiles’ father, Dr Deaton and his sister, Ms Morrell, and Chris and Allison Argent.”

“Argent?” Several heads snapped to the two in question but Chris merely grinned from the porch where he was standing. He knew what had happened on the east coast and had been informed of the new alliance.

“Unless you’ve changed your staple diet I have no reason to come after you. As long as my daughter is mated to Scott I'm part of this pack by proxy, whether I like it or not.”

 

“You have both the law **and** the Hunters on your side, Hale?” Chance hissed furiously. “ **And** Dr Stilinski's mentor too!?”

Derek shrugged.

“We’re a small pack but were strong for a reason.” He eyed the boy again, letting out a low growl in warning when he inched closer again. The boy shrank back immediately. “And your-… company?”

 

Chance figured he'd rip it off like a Band-Aid, fast and without warning. He took a deep breath.

“Well, some of my Betas knew they would rather follow someone else but they never knew whom. Your little display during your visit, Mr Hale, answered that question rather nicely so rather than having to hunt them down as traitors, I'll give them to you with my blessing, strengthening our alliance more.” He growled at the teen who didn’t react particularly until a mere glance from Derek had him backing off again… for now.

“You do realise they’ll have to move here and take my name if you do that, right, Mr Neilson?”

“Of course.” Chance suddenly took a step closer, letting his eyes bleed red. “Against my better judgement I've allowed two of my nieces and a nephew to come here so I expect you to protect them, Mr Hale.” he growled.

“Assuming I accept them, I always protect my pack.” Derek's calm answer elicited several whines from the group by the vans… and grins from the porch. “We’ll talk about that later though, please come on in. There's plenty of food for everyone to eat their fill and I'm sure you're all hungry.” He knew he'd probably accept all these new additions, if they wanted to join his pack and were willing to move across the country and transfer both work and school then who was he to complain? Besides, with ties like these between the two packs both the Hales and the Neilsons would be a lot stronger, numbers for the Hales and knowledge and magic for the Neilsons. Win-win situation. He was going to have a lot of paperwork to work through though.

People grabbed their bags, all new Betas slinking past the man they hoped would become their new Alpha, submissively.

 

“Not everybody is here for you though.” Chance muttered, pointing with a thumb… to where a giddy Nathan had caught a struggling Stiles in an iron grip, his arms locked to his sides by fleshy bands of steel. The Beta was rubbing his face vigorously against the squirming Stilinski's face and neck or anywhere he could reach really.

A shifted Zeke had attached himself to his right leg and was currently biting up and down his shin… while Lucy gave him a similar treatment on his left. Stiles was Zeke's daddy and therefore protected by Zeke while Lucy had declared Stiles **her** mate and was actively trying to get rid of the competition, family ties be damned.

 

“Eh… shouldn’t someone… help him?” the sheriff pressed out right in time to be drowned out by the following roar. Next to him Scott and Isaac fidgeted, looking between their leader and the house filling up with strangers. At least they knew better than to go upstairs because **that** wouldn’t be the best way to win a new Alpha and the rest of the Hale-pack would most definitely react unfavourably as well. Thankfully Lydia was a great hostess though and told the visitors to just drop their stuff in the hallway and help themselves to food and whatever seating they could find.

 

“Nah.” Melody smiled as she passed them on her way in with her baby. “If he's stupid enough to scent mark **that** particular Alpha’s mate on that particular Alpha’s territory, then he damn well deserves the consequences.” She flashed the two Betas a rather toothy shit-eating grin. “Don’t worry, he’ll survive and if he doesn’t it’s his own fault. We certainly won’t hold anyone responsible. Lucy, food!”

“Coming, mommy!”

 

The two young men glanced at the two wolves snarling at each other, running between the trees, followed by a cursing Stiles and a furiously hissing Zeke… glanced at each other, shrugged and went back in.

“Hey, save some potato salad for me!”

It was going to be an awesome holiday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's one more chapter to this story, the one with all the answers and all the loose ends tied up and gathered. It’s also probably one of the best chapters of this story if not the best. Please look forward to it, darlings, my darlings! 
> 
> Some of you seem to have a problem with my writing “the” before last names. It’s part of my style and I'm used to writing for a Japanese fandom where it’s normal, I will not change already finished work, posted or otherwise. Either you deal with it or you find something more to your liking to read, remember that English is my third language and cut me some slack, please. I was going to try to change my style but came to the conclusion that no, I will not do that, not for anybody else than myself and I don't want to.


	9. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all the lovely wonderful comments that you all gave me, I give you this little epilogue. And GAH! I gave myself diabetes writing this so you better have a sweet tooth. Please enjoy, my lovelies!

A year could go by so very fast some times, just ask Zeke Stilinski.

A year ago, Zeke had been an orphan, a scrawny cat on the streets of a big city, alone and fighting for survival. Then he met daddy Stiles and was taken in and given a warm loving home. Not long after that dad Derek came along and now Zeke had a big family that was all too willing to cuddle him whenever he felt like it. Sometimes, being the baby in a family meant nothing but perks.

But back to the topic, Zeke Stilinski had a family and it had all gone so fast, in only a year.

 

Where he hadn’t had anything before, he now had not one but two dads, one grandpa that loved to spoil him, and a grandma too, grandpa’s girlfriend hadn’t minded being called that even if Scott looked like he had been stepped on sometimes when he heard it, and he had brothers and sisters. Lots of them.

To sum it up, Zeke Stilinski was a happy camper.

 

Even after a year and many snuggles, daddy Stiles was and would remain Zeke's favourite of all time. He smelled of food and pack and home and safe and _family_ … and sometimes it made Zeke cry because he'd wake up from nightmares where he was still out in the wet cold back when and still hungry all the time but then he'd pussyfoot in to dad and daddy and sneak in under the blankets and dad would always pull him in close in the middle. Dad was very protective of daddy and Zeke that way, he would always make sure everyone was safe but **especially** daddy and Zeke.

 

Granted, being the baby in a pack of wolves sure came with some downsides too. Like food. Wolves ate a lot. That could be said twice, they ate **a lot**. And when you're a small creature, sometimes you had to simply steal what you wanted from the table else you'd be without. That’s when daddy lost his temper and no one moved until daddy had filled Zeke's plate with all his favourites.

 

And then there was the smell. Were or not, Zeke was still a cat and cats like to be clean and be cleanly. Wolves… don’t really care. Sometimes Zeke wondered if maybe daddy wasn’t a cat too because that one time when the pack came in after a run in April and dragged in mud everywhere… let’s just say that everybody hosed off outside now, even if the water was cold. Even dad had been yelled at that time and then dad growled at daddy… daddy was Zeke's hero, even more than Batman, because daddy had said some things in a low voice to dad that Zeke didn’t quite understand but they must have been important because dad had looked scared for 3 days after. He had also worn three pairs of underwear those days and Zeke didn’t really see the point in that. Maybe he had been freezing? Anyways, the pack always made sure to be clean and wipe off their feet before coming into the house and they always made sure Zeke had food on his plate. Dad may be the Alpha but daddy was the beast. How had Jackson said it? Ah, right. Daddy took no shit. But that’s a bad word and Zeke wasn’t allowed to use it.

 

Zeke actually liked Jackson now. He had been very rude that first time they met when Jackson attacked Zeke but then daddy shot Jackson in the leg and after that Jackson was good. At least to daddy, Jackson respected daddy a lot now and if daddy needed help with something he asked Jackson more than he did Scott. Scott said he was daddy's best friend but daddy had never really said the same, at least not to Zeke. Also, Jackson pretended to be a jerk but he protected Zeke as much as dad and daddy did. And he snuck Zeke candies when no one saw so Zeke considered Jackson an awesome big brother now. He had told Jackson that once and Jackson had preened for the rest of the day and made both dad and daddy snigger.

 

Actually, now that Zeke thought about it, there had been a lot of yelling and screaming after they had come back home from their visit to Mr Neilson's pack. Dad had wanted to sleep in daddy's bed but daddy refused and said he didn’t want him in his bed so dad had left the apartment and slammed the door. It had made the hole in the wall grow bigger and what was a deposit and how did you lose it? He hadn’t come back until late that night and snuck into daddy's room when daddy had been asleep but he'd been kicked out pretty soon after. Daddy had explained then that just because he loved dad very much, it didn’t mean that dad didn’t have some major grovelling, daddy said that meant apologising, to do. Zeke had listened closely because daddy had said that someday Zeke would meet his mate too and then he shouldn’t accept just anything either, at least not without a very good reason or getting even, preferably both. Dad had been apologising for 3 months before daddy let him sleep in his room, during the move to California and to the big house out in the forest. Zeke hadn’t really been pleased because he liked sleeping in daddy's room and it had smelled funny when he went in there afterwards.

 

There were some people his new family that Zeke really liked and there were some people Zeke didn’t really like at all. He really liked big brother Isaac because he loved cuddling and would always let Zeke snuggle up next to him when he was cold and Isaac needed more hugs than Zeke did. Zeke hugged Isaac a lot. He also liked Auntie Lydia because she helped him with school and taught him a lot and explained things so that he could understand. She also showed him a lot of funny experiments, like that time when she taught him how to put a Mentos in a Coca-Cola-bottle and quickly put the cap back on so that Scott could find it later. Yeah, he really liked Auntie Lydia. Auntie Lydia though didn’t like Auntie Cora very much. Auntie Cora was nice too but didn’t like Auntie Lydia either and that was a fight that Zeke preferred not to stick his head into. He might be a kid but he knew better than that.

 

Zeke didn’t really like Boyd that much. Boyd was too silent, too big and he didn’t let Zeke climb him like a tree… and he was Auntie Erica's mate. Even a small boy saw that those two were made for each other. Auntie Erica gave Zeke the heebie-jeebies sometimes because she would smile in that creepy ‘I will chew on you as soon as your daddy doesn’t see’-kind of way whenever he looked at her and no one else saw. And she **really** liked chasing him during the full moon. Zeke was built for speed where wolves were built for strength though so he wasn’t quite as easy to catch anymore and he knew he'd only get faster as he grew. He had promised himself he'd outrun her sooner rather than later. But he liked her because she was nice and had protected him, albeit against his will, when they were on the east coast.

 

Then there was Scott. Zeke didn’t like Scott at all. Scott was too much _dog_ and too little wolf if anyone asked Zeke. Actually, Zeke knew that dad agreed but he wasn’t allowed to say that to anyone. Ever. No, Scott was loud and growled and barked a lot and he didn’t always remember daddy's rules and he tried making things better between him and daddy by looking like a sad puppy but whenever Auntie Allison was around Scott would become… well, not _dumb_ but… less smart. He would forget that he was trying to make things better between him and daddy and whenever Zeke spat and hissed at Scott for doing that, **again** , daddy would just shrug and say that he was used to it. Zeke secretly called Scott ‘Lassie’ because he thought Scott was a mutt and deserved it for having hurt daddy so much. Also, he may or may not have sharpened his claws on Scott's clothes whenever he got the chance.

 

Then there were his ‘uncles’. Uncle Peter and Uncle Chris… Zeke positively **adored** them! They taught him things he wasn’t supposed to know and told him stories, Uncle Chris about Hunters, because not all of them were bad people!, and Uncle Peter about werewolves of course and about his family before the fire and people Zeke would’ve loved to meet but would never get to, like Auntie Laura and dad’s mommy and daddy. Uncle Peter liked hugging as much as Isaac did but it was their little secret. Zeke had told him that if was okay to like hugging, daddy had told him it was manly to like hugging but Uncle Peter had only laughed and said that he wanted to keep it a secret so all his manly hugs went to Zeke and not to anybody else. And Uncle Chris told him about how Hunters had started to hunt and why and how important it was to follow the Code because if you don’t people will get hurt so Zeke had promised to always be a good boy and follow it. Uncle Chris had also promised to train him when he got older but told him to stay a child and play for now. Zeke didn’t really understand but he had nodded anyways.

 

Zeke loved only dad and daddy more than he loved grandpa. Grandpa was awesome and everything an awesome grandpa should be according to Zeke. Grandpa was a sheriff, which was way cooler than a deputy, (sorry, dad) and he often brought Zeke down to the station so he could sneak him sweets both knew he wasn’t supposed to eat and grandpa didn’t say anything about that if Zeke didn’t say anything about the burgers that _grandpa_ wasn’t allowed to eat… sometimes that is. Grandpa called Zeke ‘his little trooper’ and it had everybody down at the station laughing and smiling when he did it. Zeke even had a sheriff’s badge, although it was made of plastic and his name was written on it with permanent marker. Grandma had said he looked very handsome in it. Zeke didn’t really understand how Scott and grandma could be related because how could someone that was so nice and made so yummy cookies be the mommy of someone so… Scott?

“Daddy! I'm finished!” Zeke grinned happily when Stiles came into his room, showing off the picture he had drawn of his family.

 

Stiles nearly choked on all the cute because first off, his boy was turning 7 today and had donned his ‘Superman’-outfit for the occasion, that being his blue Spiderman-pyjamas with a pair of red briefs over and a red blanket tied around his neck… and he was missing a front tooth. The fact that the tip of his tongue stuck out through the gap whenever he smiled made the Stilinski want to smother him in hugs and blow raspberries on his belly until he shrieked with laughter. He was positively beaming at him.

 

“We’re going to need a bigger fridge if you want it in the kitchen.” he chuckled as he walked up to the boy and let a hand run through messy brown tresses while taking in the positively humongous drawing while sitting on his haunches. They were all right there, drawn with a child’s skill and attention to details and all the love he held for them. Stiles suspected that Puss would probably become an artist in the future because he went through boxes of crayons like Scott went through boxes of fruit loops and have mercy on the blank piece of paper that dared come near him. They had quickly solved that issue by buying a rather large roll of thick white paper, intended for packaging, and now they rolled it out on the floor whenever the boy felt the mood strike him. Like now… which meant Stiles now had to figure out where to put the 2 meter long, 1 meter tall drawing of their pack and family. Thankfully only the small pictures were allowed on the fridge and Zeke was a very picky artist when it came to that most honourable display of his works. “So who is who?”

 

“This is daddy and me.” Zeke smiled happily, pointing to a brown headed figure with lighter brown eyes and a generous amount of moles, holding a small kitty-boy’s hand. “And that’s dad and Uncle Peter and Auntie Cora.” On Zeke's other side stood a stocky stick figure that caught Derek to a T. It had red eyes, black hair, an impressive stubbled jaw and a toothy frown. The vet snorted.

“Very… catching.” he grinned, turning to the other figures. There were little difference between Peter and Derek apart from the blue eyes and the obvious goatee and Cora didn’t really look any different from a number of other people in the picture, ‘cousins’, new members to the Hale-pack and former Neilsons, but her position gave her away.

 

What caught Stiles’ attention though… was Scott. You had to be blind and stupid to miss the crooked jaw and curly black hair… Scott McCall was also wearing a bright red collar. Wow… Zeke sure knew how to hold a grudge for his old man because the tension between Stiles and Scott was still rather strained.

Erica, her hair was a huge birds nest and her red mouth likewise, Boyd, Isaac, Chris, Jackson, Danny with his dimples, Lydia and John weren’t that difficult either to distinguish while Allison took some thought along with Melissa but… “Who is this?” Whiskey brown eyes blinked comically at a rather large figure that certainly wasn’t anyone in the pack.

“Nathan.” Zeke muttered sourly.

 

Stiles was fully aware of that Zeke saw Nathan as a possible threat to this new family but to go this far… maybe the boy had spent too much time around two certain ‘uncles’ because what he had drawn to the poor Beta looked anything but pleasant. Who would’ve thought that there could be such darkness in such a pure and sweet 7 year old?

Stiles was so taking a picture of that and sending to the Neilsons later. He was pretty sure Chance and Melody would appreciate it. They might even get a surprise visit from them again.

 

Alan Deaton and his sister were in there too although… Zeke must've misunderstood something along with way, or mixed them up with someone because they were drawn as… black McGonagall and Dumbledore? Must be the magic-part that he had gotten a little confused about, although Stiles sincerely doubted either of them were going to complain about it much.

 

“What about these people here?” he mused, pointing to a bunch of smiling people coloured with lighter colours above the ‘main family’-ones.

“That’s daddy's mommy and dad’s mommy and daddy, Auntie Laura and Uncle Peter’s mate and Uncle Chris’ wife too.” Zeke smiled, not knowing how his father next to him suddenly choked up at the sight of the precious stick figures. The boy didn’t even know what Stiles’ mother or Derek's parents and younger siblings or Peter’s wife looked like but he had drawn them anyways because they _were family_.

Not bothering to hide the tears the older Stilinski pulled the child close and held him hard, just breathing in that smell of boy and home and unconditional love. Gods, how precious this little creature right here was to him.

“Why don’t we take this with us downstairs and you can show it to dad and grandpa and Uncle Peter, okay? I'm sure they’ll want to see it too.” he murmured into the boy’s neck while simply rising to his feet and hefting the child with him. Clinging to him Zeke held the drawing like a flag as they went to the living room where the party was waiting.

“Look what I made!”

 

5 minutes later another 5 people looked positively sucker punched while Zeke giggled in Isaac's arms as Lydia and Melissa cooed over him, taking pictures. Erica wasn’t exactly too pleased with her portrayal but she didn’t look half as stabbed in the back as Scott, Scott who stared at his stick figure with a forlorn ‘why’ on his features. Stiles only watched and smiled when Derek silently relieved his Beta of the child and without a word disappeared into the kitchen. Having shared a teary-eyed glance with his dad he followed.

 

Derek was leaning against the counter and in his arms he held his adoptive son hard, burying his face in a small nape while simply breathing. Zeke clung just as desperately to the Alpha, remaining silent… until he tightened his grip and whispered in a sensitive ear. “I love you, dad.”

The grip tightened further but Zeke didn’t complain, didn’t say a single word, just held on knowing he had done something really good and was rewarded for it… somehow.

 

“You’re really something, Puss.” Stiles murmured softly coming up to the pair, wrapping his arms around them both and being held by both. He pressed a gentle kiss to the unruly mop of hair, smiling when he heard the tell-tale sound of purring. From the living room they could hear laughter and teasing, Jackson was apparently really smug about the fact that he had been drawn holding Scott's leash, Lydia mentioning that the polka dot dress she wore had great proportions and that she was so getting Zeke into fashion, the clinks and clunks of cutlery on china and-… “Hey, birthday boy! We've got a cake with candles for you to blow out and make a wish!” Jackson hadn’t entered the kitchen, knowing he'd be heard anyways… and that this moment right now was private for more reasons than one.

 

Derek gently put the boy down after a kiss to his forehead and with a little smile told him to go bully Scott for a little bit before they joined him for the candle-blowing.

“Are you sure, dad?”

“Yeah.” the wolf croaked but pressed out a genuine smile. “Go on.”

“Daddy?”

“We’ll be right behind you, Puss.” Stiles nodded… closing his eyes when strong arms wrapped around him and held him hard as soon as they were alone.

“Thank you.” came the hoarse whisper against his throat. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For giving me this, him, you, us. Everything started with you… and Zeke is-… he's…”

“I know. I love you, Derek.” Stiles sighed softly, tightening his own grip on his mate. “We’ve come a long way from where we used to be.”

 

From the other room they heard more cheering, Derek's ‘new’ Betas apparently indulging in some ‘toss with little Zeke’ between them, earning happy screams and loud giggling.

“We have a song to sing and pictures to take of candles being blown out and cake to eat.” Stiles murmured into his mate’s neck.

“And presents to give.”

“True.”

“He’s going to be spoilt rotten you know?” the wolf said lowly, earning a chuckle as the Stilinski moved to rest his forehead against Derek's.

“Hardly. Puss knows what all of this is worth and how easily it can be taken away, he's lost a family before, remember? He’ll hold on to us, all of us, with all the might he can muster and take nothing for granted.”

“Daddy!” Zeke hollered. “Dad!”

“Let’s get this show on the road.”

 

-

 

They sang the birthday song, they lit the candles and took pictures when Zeke blew them out and then cut up the cake, obviously giving the first piece to the birthday boy. Somewhere at the back of his mind Stiles was ridiculously grateful for having ordered 6 large cakes because for some reason he hadn’t quite grasped yet, wolves ate a lot more where sweets were concerned. As if they didn’t eat more than the average bodybuilder to begin with. He handed a paper plate to Scott with nothing more than a nod, smiling when he handed another to his father. John grinned but they both knew that there was one little boy in for a major hugging soon.

 

“Here, a piece for Allison.” the younger Stilinski said calmly, handing Scott a second paper plate.

“Stiles, we need-”

“Not now, Scott.” Stiles sighed. He had been back for little under a year and while he had made up with everybody else, some not without major effort from both sides, things between him and his former best friend had remained tense. And all attempts at conversation had ended in screaming and more hurtful words because Scott didn’t understand why Stiles was so angry and Stiles didn’t feel like explaining it to him if he couldn’t get it on his own. He had gone through a lot his years away from Beacon Hills and he knew he deserved better. Today was Zeke's birthday and he didn’t feel like ruining it by getting into another fight with the Beta. “Tomorrow or never, Scott, but **not now**.”

 

Scott gritted his teeth and turned around, shoving the plates in Allison's and Chris’ hands before abruptly storming out of the house. He didn’t slam the door but oh how he wanted to. He didn’t understand why Stiles was still so fucking hung up on what had happened back then! He knew all the whys and **still** he refused to give Scott the time of day, dammit! Not to mention, fucking _Jackson_ had apparently become his new BFF and Scott was so angry he didn’t know what to do with himself when he saw the two of them laughing and having fun together while the Stilinski would barely spare him a glance or a nod in acknowledgement. It tore him apart!

 

Drawing a few deep breaths the Beta flopped down on one of the swings that Derek had put up for Zeke in the backyard because apparently, now that he was a father, second father, to a child, the Alpha wanted the boy to have everything, including swing sets and tree houses. The kid lived the dream really, he had two awesome dads, he had a pack that adored him, grandparents, even if one of them happened to be Scott's mom of all people, friends in school… kid sure had hit the lottery when Stiles found him and took him under his wing.

Scott had tried talking to the boy but Zeke hated him on the principle that his daddy hadn’t forgiven him yet.

 

He had tried, gods only knew he had tried but talking to Stiles had been like banging his head against a brick wall.

_‘Why are you so mad at me? Derek didn’t call you either!’_

_‘Derek has a fucking martyr-complex, Scott! I expected to be approached by fucking NASA long before I expected him to call me but **you** were my **best friend** , dammit! Don’t you get it!?’_

Scott really didn’t. He **had** said he was sorry, he had!

 

“Derek, I don’t need your fucking Alpha-babble right now so just leave me alone, okay?” he sighed heavily when he heard the older man come up to him.

“I'm not here as your Alpha, Scott.” Derek said lowly. “I'm here as your friend… and as Stiles’ mate.”

“What’s the difference?” the McCall growled, irritated now. It earned him a shrug of strong shoulders. Derek had changed a lot since the fire on the east coast. He talked a lot to Chance, learned a lot from the other man, got advice he hadn’t been given when he grew up because Derek had never been expected to become pack-leader to begin with. He was still a stern Alpha with strict rules and he led his pack with a firm hand… but he had mellowed out a lot since Stiles came home. A year ago he would’ve never come out like this, he would've expected Scott to deal on his own rather than help out.

 

“You can walk away from a friend if you want to, I won’t force you to listen. As your Alpha I could have but then my words would’ve been pointless.” He calmly held out one of the two bottles he had brought with him, taking a swig from the other once he had flopped down on the swing next to his Beta. “You’re free to leave if you want to.”

 

“He won’t listen to me.” Scott muttered after a few minutes of silence and a few deep swigs of cold beer. “I said I'm sorry.”

“Scott, let me tell you something that only Stiles knows about.” Derek said softly. “I'm the Alpha of one of the strongest packs in North America, I don’t bow down to anyone.” Hazel green eyes turned away from the generously expanded Hale-house and the party inside to the sulking man next to him. “I apologised **daily** for 3 **months** , I literally went down on my knees and **begged** for forgiveness because Stiles is worth more to me than my pride and ego.” His voice was soft when he spoke because that’s what Scott needed to understand what was wrong and how to fix it. “Although it hurts to know he never expected me to call him and make him come back, that’s how things were back then. I was arrogant and proud and so fucking guarded and assumed he'd come home anyway so I wouldn’t have to. He's my **mate** and I hurt him so bad I nearly lost him before I even had him, crawling and begging was a small price to pay to get him back because Stiles **changed** me, Scott. Who you see right now is who I am, who I used to be a long time ago and he gave me that back when I thought I had lost that part of me forever. I thought I was going to remain an empty shell for the rest of my life because everything I touched turned to dust.”

 

“But it’s different! You **love** him and-”

“-you don’t?” Black brows rose questioningly. “Scott, it’s one thing that he never expected a call from me, we weren’t even that involved back then and I was an ass pushing him away, but **you** were his best friend, the Batman to his Robin, and if you lose him you'll lose more than just a friend, you'll lose your **brother** … and a part of who you are right now.” the Alpha murmured. “Trust me, that kind of loss doesn’t just go away, it festers and eats away at you until there's nothing but pain and anger and loss and guilt behind. Stiles already proved he can move on on his own, he wouldn’t allow himself to be weighed down by it because he's got a son to think about and put first now. He wouldn’t allow himself to miss you and in the end, he wouldn’t either.”

 

Derek drew a deep breath, steeling himself. “Did you know that I shifted when we went to the east coast to get Stiles back?” he asked lowly.

“Yeah, Mr Neilson told me a little about it… and Erica too.” Scott frowned unsurely. “Why?”

“Do you know what really happened that night?”

“I know rogue Hunters attacked and that Stiles got shot? It’s not like he told me anything since he's not talking to me.”

“My family burned in a fire, Scott. They were locked in their own house and unable to get out while someone lit a match.” Derek calmly looked the McCall straight in the eyes. “I left my **mate** in a house and when I came back it was on fire and a barrier of mountain ash kept me out. It was like that night all over again… and then a Hunter told me he had **shot** my mate and left him to bleed in a burning house. Can you imagine? I lost all my humanity, like with the snap of my fingers, Scott. I wasn’t feral, I was **worse** than that, ask Jackson, I nearly killed him because I didn’t recognise who he was and I _no longer cared_.” The Alpha’s features softened from the slight frown they had been drawn up in. “I would drop this pack like a hot potato if Stiles only asked me to because he's not my anchor to humanity, he **is** my humanity and everything I am and love today is because of him.”

 

A strong hand reached out to gently pat the Beta on the shoulder. “Stiles if one of our anchors, Scott, and we hurt him, **all** of us. He's my mate, Zeke's father, their friend, but he's your **brother**. He **loves** you, that’s why he's so angry and hurt, because he loves you and you let him think he was worthless and used like the rest of us. He was confused and alone for so long when **you** were the only one he trusted to **always** tell the truth.”

 

Judging by the look in brown eyes the point had finally come across.

“I've been such a dick.” he said lowly, his voice shaking just a little.

“Yup, we all have… but you're the only one he hasn’t forgiven yet.”

“I can’t believe he even forgave Jackson.”

Derek snorted, swigging more beer. “He shot Jackson in the leg with a silver bullet and refused to take it out.”

“Maybe if I let him shoot me too?” Scott asked unsurely.

“Stiles will shoot you in the head if you give him that option.” the Alpha deadpanned. “Or the balls.”

 

Scott grimaced… but then sighed heavily. “If he's angry he still cares, right?”

Derek smiled softly but nodded. “He’ll come around, you'll see. Put your back into it and I know he will. Trust me.”

“Will I have to beg?”

“Definitely.”

“On my knees?”

The higher ranked wolf shrugged, rising to his feet. “Would you be willing to go that far to get him back?”

“Anything.”

“Then start with ‘Stiles, I'm sorry and I love you. Please forgive me’ and go from there. It’s a good start.” Offering his Beta another warm smile Derek told him not to wait too long to return to the party, and went back inside. He had gone through 3 months of pure Hell on earth to be forgiven by the love of his life but the outcome was worth every second on his knees because Derek had come out a much humbler man.

Now it was Scott's turn to heal… and to grow.

 

-

 

“Uncle Peter? What's an assbaby and can you have them?”

Zeke's innocent question had the Hale choking violently. Chris looked like he wasn’t sure if laughing out loud was worth the damage that definitely _would_ come of it or not. He glanced at the flailing Beta. He had never once seen Peter Hale _flail_ before. On his other side John was biting his lip hard while looking away and a glance towards where he had heard loud coughing told him that Derek had probably snorted something he shouldn’t have, or wouldn’t have under normal circumstances… not that these were it. He was unquestionably listening in though.

“Where did you hear that, kid?” he asked lowly, grinning behind his cup of coffee.

The boy frowned adorably and confusedly at his uncles… of which one was starting to turn an alarming shade of blue while he was coughing furiously. And he wasn’t answering the question either.

“I heard Rebecca, Isaac and George talk about it. What are assbabies? Uncle Peter, can you have assbabies?”

By the buffet table Derek was starting to sound like a dying whale, leaning heavily on the wooden surface with his back to them not to lose it and John was holding up his coffee cup like a prayer, hiding his face behind it, shaking like an earthquake.

Tears were rolling down oddly coloured cheeks and the Argent finally found a crumb of mercy within him and slapped the Beta over the back, hard, helping him out.

“There’s no way you're this easy to kill, Hale.” he muttered. “If I had known that I would've tried it a decade or two ago.”

 

Horrified eyes stared at the pouting child.

“Why were they talking about-… something like that?” Peter wheezed, still trying to suck in air after having choked on birthday cake.

“I don’t know but can you? Can you have assbabies?” the child persisted.

“There’s no such thing as ‘assbabies’, Zeke.” the Beta finally managed to press out. “Only women can bear children and not-… not from there. Actually, why don’t you ask your grandmother where babies come from, I'm sure she’ll know how to answer your questions better. Right, John?”

“That’s a low blow, man.” John croaked when hopeful eyes turned to the sheriff instead. “He’s 7 years old, Hale, that’s a lot too soon to have the talk about the birds and the bees.”

“I'll ask dad instead.” Zeke muttered, turning around… only to frown. “Where’s dad?”

Derek had very obviously abandoned ship. Pouty features turned back to his uncles… as a small foot started tapping irritably. Zeke Stilinski wanted answers and he wanted them now.

 

-

 

Derek drew a deep breath of fresh air out on the porch where he had fled when he had realized when his son would have no qualms whatsoever with humiliating his old man right in front of the entire pack in his quest for answers. Oh no, let the boy make do with his gramps and uncles. Let them deal with the curious cat that Zeke actually was underneath the surface. Gods, there was no end to the questions and Stiles encouraged it, telling him to always ask whatever he wanted to know else he'd never know anything and better get too much than nothing at all. Derek fully agreed… although there had been quite a few moments the last year when he had been silently horrified at exactly **how** curious the boy actually was. The saying obviously had grains of truth.

 

Hazel green eyes turned to the French doors that lead to the study. When he had expanded the house he had indulged himself and built a study, a home office for himself and Stiles… which was a library more than anything but it was theirs and no one else entered unless they were specifically told to. Right now Stiles was in there… with Scott.

 

Derek watched how Scott apologised loudly, how he said he was such a lousy friend for having betrayed Stiles like he had, how he hadn’t thought about saying anything, how he in the end had forgotten about all the wrongness and how much he still loved his best friend and didn’t want to lose him. When Scott fell to his knees, lowering his head, crying guilty tears he looked so much like what Derek had looked like not too many months ago. Scott's tears were honest and heart-breaking but they needed to be shed else neither would be able to move on and Stiles knew that… and finally forgave him.

The sight of his mate sinking down on the floor, carefully wrapping his arms around his childhood friend, holding him hard as Scott cried and clung to him desperately, warmed Derek's heart. It was time to move on, to heal.

 

“That was sneaky of you.” John mumbled when he joined the Hale out on the porch a few minutes later.

Derek snorted. “Zeke almost gave him a coronary, you really think I'm going to step in between when he's on a roll?”

“Peter doesn’t have any dignity left, you know? There wasn’t a single person in there that didn’t hear that.”

“I'm sure he’ll live.” the Alpha grinned at the older man. “It’s about time someone brought him down a peg or two, the fact that it’s a 7 year old werecat just makes it sweeter.”

“I wonder were the boy got the term from though.”

“Betas. They’ve probably been laughing their asses of at stuff online again. Zeke asked me about knotting last week and I nearly broke my spine falling down from the library-ladder. At least no one was there to witness it.”

“I thought I was going to get shot when he asked Stevens about breast implants.”

 

Derek blinked comically at the laughing older man. “Stevens?” he asked. “As in deputy Stevens down at the station?”

“That’s the one.”

“Does Zeke know that Stevens is _male_?”

John laughed out loud at the pure horror in the Hale’s voice. He knew Derek wouldn’t be able to look the hefty officer in the eye again without knowing what his son had asked… and not laugh at it. “Please don’t tell me he asked it in the break room.”

One glance at the shit-eating grin was enough really. The Alpha groaned out loud.

“Sweet mercy. He's going to poison my coffee.”

“And mine since he knows it’s my grandson. Don’t worry about it, you're probably immune, I'm not.”

“You’re still my father-in-law.”

“No, I'm not.” The Stilinski chuckled. “Not yet anyway.” He turned a questioning look to the suddenly silent wolf. “What’s taking you so long, Hale? You're already mated to my son, why are you waiting with the official stuff?” He raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t you learnt that it’s a waste of time to hesitate or wait where my Stiles is concerned?”

 

“I don’t even know if he _wants_ to get married.” came the low mumble.

“So ask him. That’s how these things go, you know? All of us have to man up sooner or later and **ask**.” John sipped his coffee. “Besides, you already have a ring.”

“How do you-…” Derek groaned at the laughter that earned him. “You guessed, didn’t you?” he growled.

“Well, you're easy to read.”

“I resent that.”

It earned him a louder laughter and a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re a good man, Derek, you grew up well and you’ve turned your life around. If you had gone anywhere near Stiles when he was 16 I would’ve shot you but now you're not that bad.”

“Gee, thanks.” But there was no bite to the words, only a low chuckle. He nodded towards the study. “Think they’ll ever be as close as they once were?” he asked softly.

John sighed, watching how the two younger men left the room to return to the party.

“I don’t know.” he replied after a while. “There’s trust to be earned, it’s going to take a long time before Stiles trusts Scott like he once did… but I'm sure they’ll get there eventually.” He frowned slightly. “It feels a bit weird when Jackson is there instead of Scott… although it seems to have helped Jackson.”

 

“Stiles grounds him in ways the rest of us cant, I think he grounds us all, even the humans of this pack. Now that he's back we’re tighter than we ever were.”

“He does have that effect, my boy. Just like his mother, she always made sure everybody was included and no one was left out.”

“I'm happy you’ve moved on, John.” Derek said softly. “You mourned for a really long time.” He met the older man’s gaze calmly. “You deserve it so embrace it, guilt will only drown you.”

“Yeah… I'll never forget Claudia, she's the mother of my child… but Melissa is here and now.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, right back at you… and I'm going back in. There's no way I'll be allowed any sweets until the next big hullaballoo so I'm eating cake while I can. Besides, I think I need to save Chris from death from humiliation by child.”

“…you have to?”

“Peter certainly won’t.”

“You’re a good man, John Stilinski. Most men fear my son’s curiosity.”

“True, oh so very true… but I’d rather save him and have him cover my back next time some supernatural critter comes to town than have him hold a grudge and leave me for dead.”

 

-

 

“Whoa, that party escalated quickly enough.” Stiles murmured while picking up paper plates and plastic sporks and heaving them in the big garbage bag in his other hand, used plastic cups following the same route. “Note to self, next year, lock away all booze. And wolfsbane.”

“You can try but I'm pretty sure Peter would pick the lock to the basement in seconds, him or Chris… or a handful of the Betas, especially the ones I work with.” Derek chuckled from the other end of the room where he was cleaning up in a similar fashion. Parties at the Hale-house always came with a lot of cleaning, or at least a hefty amount of trash… or leastways they had become a lot livelier since the addition from the east coast.

“I should be used to seeing naked wolves what with the damn stripping and full moon-monties but apparently, there are still parts of your Betas my brain hadn’t registered, and I'm the go-to medic more than Deaton. I'm pretty sure I was happier before I knew Al had freckles between his asscheeks… or Sarah’s opting for Brazilian. Now I know… and I can never unknow. Thank you for that, life.”

“Let’s just say that I didn’t need to know that Scott had a frenulum piercing either.” Derek muttered sourly. “He really shouldn’t drink when he doesn’t know his own limits.”

“Not like he got the chance to drink himself stupid that often **before** he got bit and after it was impossible so he takes the chances he gets.” the Stilinski shrugged. “I'm a cheaper date than he is that way.”

“Not like anyone is going to find out and if you want to get hammered it’s going to be where I can keep an eye on you.” Derek growled… earning a snigger.

“So I don’t take my clothes off and try to do the helicopter while my dad literally carries curious children out of sight and earshot?”

“I still can’t believe Zeke asked Stevens about breast implants.” the wolf whined pitifully. “He’s going to make me pay for that, he's so going to seek revenge for that.”

“Stevens?” Stiles choked. “As in deputy Stevens? The big guy down at the station?”

“The one and only.”

 

Stiles laughed out loud, having to lean on the back of the couch so he didn’t topple over and he was more than happy to ignore the glare it earned him. “He asked Lydia what a vagazzle was… while Jackson was in the room!” he pressed out between gasps for air. “I've never seen Whittemore pull a Houdini faster!”

“Why are all our son’s questions about sex-related topics or genitalia?” Derek whined again… not seeing the warmth in brown eyes. But he did feel the hand that gently took his and pulled him closer to the paler man.

“Because half this pack consists of immature people with an overactive libido and the other half likes to tease. It’s probably a mix of both now that I think about it.” he mumbled against soft lips. “They know that all they need to do is say a word that _our_ knowledge hungry son has never heard before and he’ll go straight to us to ask what it means.”

“Or my uncle.”

“Or Chris and dad. And even I can see the fun in that.”

Derek chuckled, remembering the horror on Peter’s face when he was asked about ‘male-born’ babies.

“True, I can see the point. Speaking of awkward,” he said lowly, wrapping his arms around his mate loosely. “I saw you talked with Scott. Is he out of the doghouse now?”

“He’s out of the **cold**.” Stiles shrugged. “And **in** the doghouse. He's learning his lesson just like you.”

“That was hell, you know?” the Alpha murmured. “It was torture, having you so close, right here in this house, but not being allowed to touch or even sleep in the same room. I suffered.”

“You deserved it for what you put me through and know I'll do it all over again, for longer, if you _ever_ lie to me again.”

“Never.” Derek swallowed hard. “I’d rather fight you head on than get my way through lying and lose you.”

“Wise decision. Where is Zeke by the way? I heard something about him going home with dad and Melissa?”

“Yeah, they took him with them but John will probably bring him to work and spoil him with sugar again.”

“Both are working weekend again, huh?”

“At least they're living together now.”

 

Stiles eyed the mess in the room. There wasn’t that much left… and it could wait until tomorrow. Child-free weekend days were rare in this house after all, and having the entire house to themselves even rarer than that. This night was both. He took a step back but remained his grip on the other.

“Let’s go upstairs.” he murmured. “I have some scenting to do.”

Hazel green eyes crinkled with fondness… but he followed obediently. “Really? Scent marking, Stiles?”

“Yes, I have to let them all know that we’re not letting ourselves go here. We’re as young and horny as ever. And I want them to know you're mine, so sue me, Sourwolf.”

“Oh, I think they know.”

Stiles shrugged, letting go. “Suit yourself then.”

 

Obviously, Derek had no intentions of being left behind. “I have some scenting to do too.” he said softly over a sensitive ear as they walked, back to chest and in perfect sync, up the stairs and down the hallways. “You don’t really smell like me anymore.”

“Really?”

“No, there's too much _pack_ and too little _me_ on you.”

“Gotta remedy that.”

“Yes, it’s very important.”

They both chuckled at their own silliness, Derek absentmindedly kicking the door closed to the master bedroom behind them. Their kisses were slow and sweet when their mouths met again and again and again, there was no rush, not like that first time when they tore at each other to get to skin, and many times thereafter. No, this time was slow, gentle, a soft glowing ember rather than the roaring flames that consumed them when they least expected it.

 

Stiles chuckled when he was graced with nips over his collarbones, open-mouthed kisses over his shoulder to his nape and up the slender column of his neck where the wolf peppered him with love bites. Derek had always had a thing for Stiles’ neck, it wasn’t a wolf-thing per say seeing as any touch really was enough to calm or soothe, but Stiles’ neck in particular rarely went a day without at least one hickey somewhere, old or otherwise. It was like Derek's drug, if Stiles offered, be so sure he was there to enjoy himself happily.

“Clothes, Derek, there is way too much fabric in this equation. Get it off. Off!” he muttered, pulling on his lover’s shirt fruitlessly while the Alpha let his hands wander over the expanses of pale skin under the brunet’s own layers. He wasn’t very keen on moving away at all, not matter for how short a period of time. “If you get us naked I'll let you rim me.”

 

Whoa, Stiles sure knew which buttons to push. He laughed out loud when he landed naked on the bed with a bounce not a minute later, watching how Derek hurried to get rid of his own garments, growling when his feet got stuck in the trouser legs. He laughed even harder when the Alpha neatly lost his balance and woodenly toppled over, landing on the bed face first. The next growl was more irritation and humiliation than sexy foreplay.

“Not so graceful after all, are you, Sourwolf?” Stiles grinned when the other finally was free and moved over him with a scowl on beautiful features.

“It’s your fault.”

“How is this my fault? I didn’t trip you.”

“You bought me those tight pants.”

“Because I love seeing your ass in them!” the Stilinski leered. “Why do you think I always make you pick stuff up for me, hm, genius?” But his hands were gentle when they ran through thick black tresses, knowing Derek loved having his hair played with. He earned a low groan and a heavy wolf flopping down on top of him when fingertips started massaging his neck and the base of his skull.

“Gods, I don’t know how I survived without you all those years.” Derek murmured into a pale shoulder while digging his hands and arms in under his mate. “I got by somehow but just this, your touch, it’s what grounds me. I probably relied on the pack way too heavily to stay sane.”

“You’re not the only one with an anchor, you know?” Stiles said softly, enjoying his lover’s weight on him, in him soon. “I spent nearly 10 years walking around being angry, so _angry_ , at you, and hurt, because I didn’t know why you pushed me away and after a while I didn’t care, I was just angry. And now… now it feels surreal that I ever lived like that. It’s like having watched a depressing movie only to return to a great reality once it’s over.” He pressed a soft kiss to the soft mop of hair. “You’re my anchor as much as I am yours, Derek.”

 

A shudder ran down the Hale’s spine at the way his name rolled off Stiles’ tongue, soft and fond and… warm.

“Marry me.” The words were out before he could as much as think about stopping them.

Stiles chuckled softly.

“Took you long enough.”

“Is that a yes?” Derek looked up to meet warm whiskey brown eyes. He felt oddly nervous considering they were already mated.

“That depends on.”

“Depends on what?”

“Do you have a ring?”

“I do.”

“Where is it?”

“In my sock drawer.”

“Seriously?” Stiles grinned but the smile wasn’t as sharp as expected. “Well, go get it then.”

“Don’t wanna move.” the wolf grumbled, digging his nose into Stiles’ armpit. “Comfy.”

“You just proposed to me and now you won’t give me the ring?” Okay, this time he definitely laughed _at_ him. “You’re one piece of work, Hale.”

“Don’t call me Hale.”

“You’re taking my name, just so you know.”

 

Derek knew he was smiling like a loon when he looked up. That if anything was an answer to his question… but he wanted to hear Stiles say it.

“Will you marry me, love of my life?” he murmured softly.

The smile he got he knew he'd remember to his dying day, there was no way he'd ever forget that smile.

“Yeah, I will.” Stiles winked at him. “Now give me my ring.”

“So bossy.” But he did get up, with minimum amount of grumble, to go get the small box. When he turned back to the bed, the absolutely humongous bed that he had gotten as soon as Stiles finally moved into his room, he was met with a warm smile and a sweet rose on otherwise pale cheeks. Those bottomless whiskey brown eyes looked at him with such love, something he never thought he'd ever have but here he was, naked, half hard and so so happy he was dizzy. Without preamble he got on the bed, got the ring out and gently slid it on the very finger where it would rest for the rest of their lives. His wolf, the furry sucker, was squirming and whining with happiness when he put his own ring on, a newer replica of the old one.

 

Stiles blinked back the tears, refusing to let them fall because bawling would only cheapen this moment and if a single blasted tear fell that’s where this would end up. The ring was simple, a band of gold without any fuss of any kind… but it was obviously old and well worn… and loved.

“It was my grandfather’s.” Derek answered the unvoiced question. “Laura took our grandma’s ring and I got grandpa’s. We both wanted to give them to our mates in the future.”

“You switched rings and you got your granddads? Do you think Laura knew you'd mate with a man?”

The wolf shrugged but didn’t lose the smile. “She was a pain in my ass but she knew me better than anybody else in the entire pack. It was me and her against the world from the day I was born according to my mom.”

“I've never even met her and I miss her. Is that weird?”

“No.” Derek smiled softly. “It’s not weird at all. I know she would’ve loved you… and together you two would’ve made my life hell, well, a different kind of hell. Hell is what I went through without you here.”

 

Stiles simply reached out and pulled his lover, mate, fiancé, in and held him as hard as he could. He had everything he could possibly want in life right now. He had his family, the entire pack, he had a son he loved to insanity and he had Derek, his very own Alpha werewolf. “Make love to me, Sourwolf.” he murmured. “We’re wasting a perfectly good night alone in the house what with everybody being out partying right now and who knows when they’ll come back, stomping in through the door?”

“I don’t care if they hear us, I don’t care if they _see_ us.” Derek mumbled, trailing kisses and nips down the pale column that could turn him on in the blink of an eye with no more than a turn of Stiles’ head. “Let them watch for all I care, as long as they don’t touch.”

“We’re so going to explore that kink someday, but not now. Get in me, Derek.”

“Mmm, I will.” the Alpha replied absentmindedly. “Soon.” He was going to taste every inch of his mate and he was going to lick him open so he wouldn’t feel a single sting of pain. So that’s what he did.

 

He laid his lover down, stroked him, caressed him, worshipped the pale skin and kissed every mole like it was a drop of chocolate that had to be tasted. The sound of Stiles’ moans, raspy and breathless, were music to his ears and the low whines only spurred him on, taking the hard cock in his mouth and sucking, licking until Stiles’ came down his throat with a low moan. He loved watching his mate this way, positively high on pleasure and pliant like he never really was outside the bedroom. The moment Stiles got out of bed he was running, his mind buzzing with everything he had to do that day, it was always full throttle and since he became the Alpha’s mate, which basically translated to becoming the mother of the whole pack, yes, even the new Betas and certainly the old ones, he was too busy caring for and about the others to really think about himself. So Derek did his very best to calm him down when it was just the two of them, make him relax… and sex him stupid as much as he could.

 

He smiled softly at his mate, saw the dazed eyes and knew he wouldn’t recover for a little while yet, and that’s how he wanted it. Gently, oh so gently, he rolled the younger man over, slipped a pillow under his hips to get them higher, spread long slender legs… and feasted. Strong hands spread firm cheeks to reveal the hole he'd bury himself in soon enough, and licked right over it with a broad swipe of his tongue, earning a small whimper.

Stiles didn’t allow him this pleasure anywhere near enough, he was still a little shy about the topic, but Derek loved rimming his mate. He loved the way Stiles tasted, the way he'd clench around the tip of his tongue, the way he'd whimper and whine for more while blushing a delectable red all the way from the roots of his hair and halfway down his chest… like now. Derek kept on licking, sucking, kissing him intimately, flicking over the small hole, pushing more of his tongue in when Stiles relaxed enough, carefully slipping a finger inside alongside when his lover couldn’t seem to keep still. Some day he'd convince Stiles to let him rim him until he came from it but not now, now he reached for the lube to spread on his fingers so he could stretch the sweet pucker for more.

 

Two fingers slipped in easy, three met some resistance but yielded soon enough and when he carefully worked the fourth in, Derek was feeling as desperate as Stiles. He wanted in, wanted to mate and claim and mark him but he took it easy, so slow it was maddening, while spreading kisses over Stiles’ spine and shoulders, tasting every mole and freckle he could find.

 

“Der’k.” Stiles slurred. “It’s enough alre-” his voice turning into a garbled moan when skilled fingertips brushed over the elusive gland inside him. “I need-…”

“Need what, Stiles?” Derek rasped. He couldn’t take his eyes off of his lover despite knowing it only brought him closer to the edge. “Tell me what you need.”

“You.” Stiles swallowed, or at least tried to. “You, I need _you_.”

The answer nearly made him whine and his hands shook when he carefully pulled out and reached for the condom next to the lube. He tore the packet up with his teeth, rolled the condom on and moved to cover the slenderer frame with his own bulkier one. Derek groaned as much over the tight heat around him as he did at the sight of Stiles’ left hand in his, ring pressing in right next to his own. “I love you.” he whispered between pale shoulder blades. “I love you.” against a slender neck, and, “I love you.” over a sensitive ear. “I love you, Stiles.”

 

For all of his babbling and general production of noise during the rest of the day, Stiles was a surprisingly quiet lover, probably a remainder from his teen years, and only moaned softly in response. But his hand gripped his fingers tighter, hard enough to ache for both of them. Neither knew how long they stayed like that, billowing against each other in slow thrusts, both trying to prolong the pleasure as much as they could just so they could stay in this oblivion longer. The need to come wasn’t as great as the need to simply be one but it grew and soon they moved just a little harder, a little faster.

 

Stiles swore he saw stars behind his closed eyelids, he felt so full and his blood boiled with a fever that had nothing to do with germs and everything to do with Derek, this silly wonderful man that would sometimes pine after him despite being in the same bed, less than a hand width away. He skin tingled everywhere they connected and the ring on his finger seemed to burn him without a single spark of pain. Completely unaware of what he was doing he leaned forward to mouth at his mate’s wrist, kiss and nip and lick because he simply needed Derek's taste on his tongue. It earned him a low groan and a hand sneaking in under him to stroke his neglected cock just the way he liked it. He didn’t need more than a few tugs before he came with a low wail and a sob at the back of his throat, not when Derek angled his hips just so. And Derek followed him over the edge only a moment later, unable to hold back when he was gripped so tightly and squeezed. It tore a howl from him it was so intense.

 

Derek managed to catch himself from crashing down over the paler man but did lay on him carefully, tucking their arms close to them as their breathing returned to normal. He knew Stiles liked the closeness after sex and he sure was strong enough to handle Derek's weight. Tired but warm hazel green eyes watched their hands and smiled. He should’ve known there was no need to worry about the size because of course the ring fit perfectly.

 

“Had someone told me a year ago that I would be back in Beacon Hills, with a son, mated and engaged to you, I would’ve probably socked that person.” Stiles mumbled after a while. “I mean, I didn’t ever think I would have this and certainly not with you.”

“A year ago I probably would’ve done the same.” Derek replied softly. “Because I dreamed about this life but you hated my guts… again. I would’ve killed that person for making fun of my dreams.”

“And now…?”

“Now I know better and I’m not the same person I was back then.” the Alpha murmured, pressing gentle kisses to soft hair before gently pulling out of his lover. “You taught me how to trust again, how to be more than just the angry werewolf, I'm a living breathing person thanks to you. You even turned _Peter_ into something I recognise from way back when.”

“Yeah, well, that one took some work.” Stiles muttered while Derek went to the bathroom to get a washcloth. “But trust me, he's still very much an on-going project.”

 

The Alpha only chuckled though while carefully wiping them off and throwing the cloth in the hamper. He climbed back into bed and manhandled his mate in under the covers to rest, curled up against him. They stayed like for a while, both content and in their own thoughts before Derek broke the silence.

“If we hadn’t come, would you have joined Neilson?” he asked lowly, absentmindedly playing with his lover’s fingers.

“Probably.” Stiles mumbled. “I didn’t want Zeke to grow up in the city and their town is really nice.”

“You would’ve had to mate with a wolf. Would you have mated with Nathan?” The name alone was enough to make Derek's hackle rise seeing as the Beta simply didn’t seem to get the picture, especially not after Halloween and what had gone down then. Even after Stiles and Derek had been mated the bloody man kept pestering the Stilinski about dates and stuff. Thank god he lived on the other end of the country. Stiles though merely shrugged.

“Probably.” he said again. “He’s nice to me and he never forced himself on me so yeah, if dad hadn’t lit a fire under your ass I probably would’ve ended up with him.”

“But you didn’t love him.”

“I would’ve learned.” came the simple answer. “I learned to love you and you scared me shitless in the beginning.” Whiskey brown eyes looked up to meet pouty hazel green.

“Our circumstances were a bit different.” Derek muttered. “You thought I was a murderer.”

“You didn’t exactly do much to correct me there for a while, Sourwolf.” the Stilinski grinned, loving the way the wolf openly pouted. “Not to mention the pushing up against walls, the smashing my head against steering wheels, the death threats, the growling and shoving and snarling… you weren’t exactly the most amicable type, you know. But then I saw you smile, for real, and I fell in love with you against better judgement.” He kissed a stubbled cheek when he saw the guilt in his mate’s eyes. “Nathan is nice but he doesn’t make my blood boil or my heart beat faster like you do. You ruined me long before I even met him.”

“I just wish I didn’t waste so much time.”

“Hey, maybe it was for the best.” Stiles mused. “Maybe we weren’t ready and we wouldn’t have had Puss if we hadn’t been apart. A lot of good came out of it.”

“Yeah.” Derek murmured, sliding down a little and pulling the covers up. Without thinking he pulled Stiles’ freezing feet in between his own to warm up. “But now we’ll face all the good, and bad, things together.”

 

-

 

So much for a calm morning really, Stiles had been less than 5 minutes in the kitchen the next morning before all hell broke loose and came crashing down over him, namely in the shape of a small redhead.

“What is that?”

“Wha-? What is what?” Stiles hadn’t even gotten any tea yet, he wasn’t exactly firing on all cylinders right now. He blinked at her, silently hating her for looking so fresh and perky so early in the morning.

“That.” Lydia pointed to his left hand. She and everybody else in the kitchen zeroed in on the appendage.

“It’s a ring.” he replied calmly, already more focused on putting on the kettle… and maybe eat some cake for breakfast. There was some left from the day before but not much.

“It’s old.”

“That’s because the last person who wore it happens to be Derek's grandpa.”

“He finally proposed.” she deadpanned.

“That’s about it, yes.” Stiles yawned. “I'm going to make some coffee for Derek, then I'm gonna bring that and the rest of the cake up to our bedroom. You guys can clean the rest of the living room.”

“You got engaged!” she squealed loudly before barrelling into him. “I get to plan a wedding!”

“Lydia, I love you, but I will not wear a dress.”

She snorted at him already sending a mass text… which meant that within half an hour or so, the house was going to be full of giddy wolves… again. Suddenly he was happy that he had turned his phone off but if judging by the loud grunts from upstairs, Derek hadn’t.

 

Not a minute later the landline rang and Stiles answered when it was obvious that no one else would, putting it on speaker. What with all the wolves around there really was no such thing as privacy unless he went to the study to talk take the call there.

“Stiles speaking.”

_‘Congra-’_ his dad began but was interrupted.

_‘I WANT A BABY SISTER!’_

_‘Puss!’_ John pressed out over the laughter from his deputies who had undeniably heard that particular outburst, werewolf hearing or no. _‘They’re engaged, not pregnant!’_

_‘There’s a difference?’_

_‘Yes, there's a very big difference.’_

_‘So… no assbabies?’_

Stiles buried his face in his hands not to laugh at how Peter nearly missed a step on his way down the stairs. Behind him Derek was literally biting into his own arm not to lose what little control he had. It earned him the stink eye from his uncle but it didn’t stop strong shoulders from shaking.

_‘Uhm, no, Zeke, no uhm-… no babies.’_

_‘But I want a sister!’_

Stiles bit his lip not to say anything but he smiled at Lydia who was already making a list of all the things they had to do to plan a wedding… when she wrote a little sub-list titled ‘surrogate mothers?’. She smiled right back.

“Not right now, Puss, but we’ll see what we can do.” he promised. “You having fun at the station?”

_‘I met a baddie today!’_ the boy replied jubilantly. _‘A real baddie!’_

“Dad?”

_‘He snuck in to the cells and gave the drunks gummy worms. Kind of reminds me of someone.’_ The sheriff chuckled. _‘Although truth to be told, Zeke is more of a handful than you were. You at least didn’t ask them so many questions. I think Jacko is going through an existential crisis, I think Zeke scared him off the bottle for good.’_

“Go, Puss!”

_‘Well, congratulations, son. I'm sure there’ll be a party for you later today so I'll make sure to be there with Melissa and Puss.’_

“You’re looking forward to all the food, aren’t ya, old man?” Stiles muttered, earning a low sniggering. He knew the rules because he's the ones that made them, no party equalled no yummies for John Stilinski. Damn. “I'll see you then. Zeke, don’t let your gramps eat any burgers for lunch, make sure he's eating salad.”

_‘Yes, daddy!’_

 

Stiles ignored the ramble of colourful animals as he hung up because he knew his boy was unbribable and that’s a lesson the sheriff of Beacon Hills, along with the few Betas that also worked at the station, had learned the hard way. Zeke Stilinski was only blindly loyal to one person and one person only, Stiles.

He had just put down the receiver when the door opened and Jackson boomed in.

“You’re getting married!” he hollered. Obviously he was looking forward to planning a stag night… and Stiles was pretty damn sure the Whittemore was going to enjoy himself royally when it came around to tux-fittings… on Stiles’ behalf.

 

The original Hale-pack so to speak, still got the heebie-jeebies whenever Jackson reacted the way they were used to seeing Scott reacting. This was no exception. Lydia shuddered by the table and Peter shook his head while rolling his eyes. Apparently, the Whittemore's stoic and cool façade didn’t go well with his newly found respect and idolisation of the Alpha’s mate. Although they'd all lie if they said they didn’t like him better now than he was before. Stiles’ empathy and willingness to heal any wound, physical, mental or emotional, and his surprising patience with the Omega, had changed him, made him more secure in himself… although he still didn’t mind taking Scott on every now and then and yes, he was still dripping with attitude. And there were the random outbursts of sass of course, it never got old.

“Yup, I'm getting married. Finally. Please tell Lydia I will not have a themed wedding, unless is superheroes.”

“Spoilsport!”

 

Considering Jackson had left the door open, Scott and Allison thundered right in through it… no one really bothered with knocking or plain asking for permission anymore. Not even Chris Argent.

“You’re getting married! About time!”

“Did _everybody_ know I was going to propose?” Derek growled from around his coffee cup… and earned a ‘well, duh’-look from every single person in the room. “I hate you all.” he muttered. “I hate you all so much.”

“I don’t even need to be a wolf to know that’s a lie.” Allison snorted, grabbing a cup of her own. “You’re so obvious it’s painful sometimes.”

“I am not.”

“So you don’t want to have a small ceremony behind the house, something similar to what your family used to hold?” Scott asked.

“Not an option, we have lots of people that we have to invite.” Lydia absentmindedly piped up, still scribbling on her list.

“And you haven’t been sitting on that ring ever since Stiles came back?” tried Allison.

“And you don’t want to name our daughter after Laura?” Stiles grinned.

“Oh, is this a guess-Derek-game?” Isaac asked from the doorway. “Let me try, Derek hasn’t been writing ‘Derek Haleinski’ on every piece of paper for months?”

 

Derek shot him a horrified look when the others laughed out loud. “I wrote that **once**!”

“I bet you have a journal somewhere, nephew.” Peter smirked. “I bet I can find it too, given some time.”

“You do know that the next time you die I'll make sure you stay dead and buried, right?” the humiliated Alpha snarled. “Yes, I know all of Stiles’ likes and dislikes, yes, I've been in stupid love with him for years, yes, I finally got my thumb out and asked him to marry me and yes, I'm a sucker. Happy now? At least I've got my mate, and I've got a son, adopted or not, while the rest of you are still dancing around the edges of the dating pool or stuck in a funk, so go ahead, laugh at the man who has it all.”

Derek sure knew how to turn the mood sour when he wanted it. For once he was the one to rub his happiness in someone else’s face. He quite liked it actually, it was certainly a new experience. He grinned widely when the others glared at him, some even growling.

“You go, girl!” Stiles chuckled over his tea. “Speaking of ceremonies by the way, I veto anything and everything church. I do not do churches or cathedrals. I want my wedding right here, in the forest, preferably with ribbons and flowers old plain au naturale and stuff. I want to be relaxed and comfortable and maybe have some lit candles and for people to be able to shift and run if they want to. No churches, I'm serious, Lyds.”

 

Derek looked at his fiancé as if Stiles had just fetched him a twinkling star. Lydia though narrowed her eyes as him, obviously displeased with that particular turn of event. No doubt she had planned on booking the biggest spectacle close enough she could find and probably hire some film crew to record and take pictures and with Stiles putting his foot down, those plans just went out the window.

“I demand catering.” she growled. She sure had picked a few things up over the years.

“Sure. Lots of food is going to be needed.”

“And a large cake.”

“Of course.”

“And flowers.”

“It **is** a wedding.”

“And white tuxes.”

Stiles turned to his mate with a little grin. “That one’s on you, Sourwolf. Tux, yay or nay?”

A shudder ran down the Alpha’s spine at the look the Martin graced him with when he hesitated. Jackson looked like a thundercloud at the mere thought of no tuxes and Isaac virtually begged him to say yes.

“I guess I can wear a tux.” he finally sighed, ignoring the low cheer that earned him.

 

“Do I get to give my nephew away or is John going to give you away, Stiles?” Peter sniggered over his own cup of hot coffee. He hadn’t felt like this in a really long time and he was more than aware of that it was all due to Stiles coming back and his ‘take no shit’-policy. Surprisingly enough, he was the one that centred the former Alpha most. Maybe that was because he genuinely cared for the entire pack, each and every single member, especially the new ones that hadn’t experienced as much as the first group of Betas and that sure had gotten a surprise when they realised what a hell mouth Beacon Hills was. Thankfully they were a large and stable pack now and very few dared attack them like they had once been targeted.

 

“I don’t really care which one of us walks down the aisle, we could both walk down it or neither.” the Stilinski shrugged. “I don’t even know if we should have an aisle. It seems so stilted somehow. Maybe we should just throw some blankets out and let people sit wherever they want?”

“Stiles!”

“What? We’re the ones getting married!”

“Derek?” Isaac asked lowly, pouring as much baby blues into his eyes as he could muster. “Who is going to be your best man?”

The Alpha abruptly lost all colour when he was targeted from several directions by begging puppy eyes. Stiles laughed at him… until he was kindly reminded that he too had to choose someone for his maid or man of honour. Pointless to say, he got his ass handed to him.

 

-

 

Zeke Stilinski Hale, oh yes, because he was a Hale too now, positively preened in his tux while holding the little basket with flowers. He was a flower boy and that was a very important job, very important indeed, because if no one spread the flowers out for the groom couple, then who else was going to do it? And Auntie Lydia had told him that it was important that dad and daddy knew which way to go between the blankets and guests sitting on the ground. He had gone to the flower shop with daddy to choose flowers, he had gotten to choose exactly what he wanted all by himself, which is why he was spreading out white little forget-me-nots. Don’t let anybody tell Zeke that he didn’t know the importance of meaning.

 

He smiled a wide toothy smile as he passed the blanket with his grandma and Auntie Allison, both dabbing at their eyes with tissues, not that Zeke understood why. On another blanket sat Isaac, Boyd and Auntie Cora and Erica and right next to them were Danny, Jackson and Auntie Lydia. Uncle Chris sat together with Mr Deaton on another blanket, Zeke didn’t really like the man, he smelled funny and never answered his questions so that Zeke understood, and spread out in the clearing around a small altar was the rest of the pack along with many guests that had been invited, mainly allied Alphas with their mates and Seconds, but also representatives from other groups of allied people… like the witch from a witch coven that had wanted to stay in Beacon Hills and open a store with all kinds of weird stuff. Daddy had said that she was a nice witch and that she helped them with magic because the pack protected her and her sisters. She smelled all funnily too, at least to Zeke.

Also, there were some humans there, a few from dad’s and daddy’s work, from daddy’s family and a bunch of people that Zeke didn’t know or care about. Why was daddy’s Auntie crying by the way?

 

Well, that was a question for later because he had a job to do and he was going to do a damn good job too! Although he wasn’t allowed to use that word either. He straightened his back and put on a serious face as he continued towards the small altar in the clearing, making sure to spread flowers as he went and that there wouldn’t be too many or too few anywhere. Once by the minister, an Alpha and old friend of dad’s old pack, he grinned widely and took his seat on the blanket next to his gramps, who lifted him with a barely there grunt and placed him in the space between his folded legs. And then people started singing… it wasn’t a song Zeke had ever heard before but he felt it was old and special, more like a song meant for the trees and the rivers and the moon than some old fella on a cloud somewhere.

 

Zeke smiled brightly when everybody turned and saw his parents come walking over the path of flowers that he had made, both of them barefoot, both of them relaxed and smiling softly. Surprisingly enough, no one seemed to be nervous, well, maybe Scott but Zeke still hadn’t really forgiven Scott for hurting his daddy although he was getting there what with all the begging and sucking up that Scott had going on, and he wasn’t the only one who clapped his hands as the two men passed. He preened again when Stiles stopped to bend down and place a loud smacking kiss on his head, before continuing down towards the altar, holding dad’s hand. Zeke might be a young boy, he might be innocent and he knew there were still a lot of things he had to learn about the supernatural and his own family in particular, but he knew, deep down at his very core, that today was a very special day… for all of them.

 

-

 

“I wish they were here.”

Stiles didn’t have to be a genius to know who his beloved meant, it was right there in Derek's eyes.

“They are.” he replied softly, linking his fingers with his mate’s as they sat by the table, looking out over all the people enjoying themselves on the dance floor and mingling around the tables and trees. The caterers sure had their job cut out for them and where Lydia had found a catering firm that wasn’t new to werewolves, he would never know. It was just her magic he assumed. “They’re here as much as all these guests and they're just happy for you.”

“I just want to hug them, you know?” Derek murmured. “Hug my dad, Laura… my mom, now that I’m mated and married. I want to see their happy faces.”

“Alpha or not, I bet your mom would’ve cried during the ceremony, probably Laura too, although I have a feeling she would’ve denied it come hell or high water.” Stiles grinned at the low chuckle that earned him.

“I swear I saw Peter wipe away a tear before.”

“I'm sure he heard that and I'm positive he's gonna make you pay for it.”

“He can try, I'll just sic Zeke on him again.”

“I doubt there are that many mortifying subjects left for that boy to ask him about though?”

The smile Derek graced him with was positively shit-eating. Whiskey brown eyes blinked… and then a brow rose. “You better share that with me later, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude… and maybe, if you behave.”

“I have no such plans.” Stiles loved how that lured a genuine laughter from the older man. He smiled softly. “Joke aside, look around, Derek. This is our family, our pack. We’re all here because you never stopped fighting, even when maybe you should have… and your family, the one you lost, they're here too, in spirit. _I_ can feel it.”

“ _You_ can feel it?”

“Yeah, _I_ can feel it. Your folks, your sister and aunts and cousins and uncles and brothers, they're all there… and so is my mom, because they're in our hearts. I don’t need to be a wolf to know they're celebrating with us, only we can’t see them.”

“Had they offered you the Bite, the Neilsons I mean, would you have accepted it?” Derek's voice suddenly took a lower tone, more serious… and more vulnerable. “Would you have become one of them that way?”

“No, never.” Stiles didn’t even hesitate.

“Will you accept it from me?” Still so vulnerable, yet so hopeful. It had taken a lot before Derek dared show such sides of himself, even to Stiles, and Stiles treasured them all.

“Someday, but not now.”

 

Derek swallowed hard. “Some… day?” he rasped. “Someday you'll accept it, but not now? Why?”

The smile he got was the kind one would give a particularly slow but loved child.

“Because as a human I can protect you.” Stiles said softly, reaching out to stroke a tendril of the Morning Glory in Derek's hair behind his ear. “I'm a barrier between you and all the things out there that can harm this pack. I'll break every ash barrier, dig out every bullet or arrow, every poisoning I'll cure and until I find someone _I_ entrust with that job, I'll _stay_ human.” The smile never left his features as he leaned in to place a delicate kiss to soft lips. “I'm your mate, Derek, I'm not going anywhere, human or otherwise, because where you go I'll follow, always. I love you.”

“What did I do to deserve you, Stiles?” Derek's voice cracked at the end of the sentence and his hand had an almost painfully tight grip on his mate’s. He looked so small suddenly, as if this was all a dream that would be taken away from him come the light of the rising sun. “I've done so many-”

“-stupid things, yeah, we all have, Sourwolf.” Stiles cut him off while rising to his feet, tugging on Derek's hands. His eyes sparkled with life and laughter and joy and so much _love_ it sometimes hurt Derek to look at him. “We get what we deserve and I got a broody Alpha with a penchant for sass and communicating eyebrows while you got a sexy smartass that’s always right. We balance each other out, right, _mate_? Now dance with me!”

“You got one of those right, _mate_.” But Derek laughed then, feeling an elevation he'd never felt before, freedom and love and rejoice and as he easily held his laughing beloved off the floor, spinning them around in circles, barefoot, with flowers in their hair and with their pack cheering around them, he knew he'd finally gotten his happily ever after. Derek Hale Stilinski… was looking forward to the future.

 

The end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the looong long wait. I wasn’t entirely satisfied with this last chapter when I first wrote it out so I changed it and in the end it became this monster of a piece. And hey, weddings! I hope you all enjoyed this little story and thank you all for all the lovely comments!
> 
> Edit; Please do **not** list my works on goodreads.com, fanfiction does not belong there, published works do, and I'm tired of having to contact the admin and ask them to take my listed works down. Thank you.

**Author's Note:**

> I do NOT give permission to have any of my works put up on Goodreads or any other such site.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [I want you to stay](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1371253) by [buffylover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buffylover/pseuds/buffylover)




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